Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Ego, the avatar, appeared on the view screen of Yondu’s captain’s quarters aboard the Eclector with the lush, saturated colors of Ego, the planet, in the background, the Centaurian had to fight the bit of bile that was threatening to make its way up his throat. The Celestial had made no contact with him for two years and change, not since Yondu had told him that he’d arrived on Terra to find Meredith Quill and her son both dead. Ego had looked more annoyed than upset then, asking several times if he was sure about Peter. He really didn’t seem at all surprised about Meredith, something Yondu had tucked away for further analysis later.

So now, two plus years later, the Celestial was back with another planet and another name, this time that of a woman, not a child. The child hadn’t been born yet, and Ego wanted to ensure that this one survived. which was why he was asking if Yondu would bring the mother-to-be to him. Un-fuckin’-likely, Yondu thought venomously. Aloud he projected nothing but casual boredom.

“Appreciate bein’ first on yer call list,” the blue man examined his nails. “But see, the thing is, me an’ the boys are in the middle of another gig. Anyways, there’s been some buzzin’ about gettin’ back in with the rest of the Ravager factions, so I’m gonna have to pass on this one.”

“Suit yourself.” The Celestial looked only mildly disappointed but not really distressed, and Yondu wondered if anything actually ever affected the other man. “You’re turning down a hell of a pay day.”

“Don’t remind me,” he feigned regret and cut the connection. “Jackass.”

He thought that would be the end of it. No other Ravager faction was stupid enough to follow in his footsteps, no matter how big the pay day was. Yondu was sure Stakar had used his banishment as an example to all who dare break the code. At least he hoped that’s what had happened.

Nevertheless Yondu kept his ear low to the ground, so to speak. It was good for business and good for staying alive, especially with two fugitive humans on board, even if no one else really understood that that was what they were. When four days after his little chat with Ego, he heard about a group of Badoon bounty hunters en route to the planet in question, he’d been sadly unsurprised. It figured Ego would’ve found someone else to do his dirty work, something no Ravager would’ve - should’ve - ever done.

“Maybe they’re after one of the royals,” Tullk ventured a guess when Yondu had shared the surface level information with him and Kraglin. “You know the those lizard bastards’ve always hated them.”

“You believe that?” Yondu asked sourly, studying his drink.

Neither of the other two men replied.

If he’d explicitly asked for their opinion, he was pretty sure they would have told him to let it go. Not the crew’s problem, and they’d certainly earned their fair share of trouble on their former client’s behalf. All of that was true, which was exactly why Yondu hadn’t asked anyone’s opinion. Instead, here he was on day five after his little talk with that jackass, pacing his quarters, contemplating getting thoroughly drunk, and trying to decide what to do. It was not like he had a lot of time… it might already be too late.

“Hell with it,” the captain muttered to himself, emptied his glass, and went to find Meredith.

She wasn’t hard to find. The Terran woman had, much to everyone’s surprise, taken to engineering, while Peter had shown a great deal of aptitude for piloting, even at such a young age. That was good. It gave Yondu an excuse for the rest of the crew why he’d kept both mother and son around without feeding other, less savory rumors about his relationship with Meredith. So predictably he found her in engineering. Her back was to him as she crouched on the floor with her arm disappearing into a small open panel on the wall. His chief engineer was standing over her, big beefy arms crossed. Whatever they were trying to fix, Yondu understood that there was no way the other man would have been able to even fit his hand through the panel, let alone a whole arm.

“Need to borrow Ms. Quill,” the captain said without preamble. The chief nodded, but Meredith didn’t as much as turn her head.

“I almost got it.”

There was a look of intense concentration on her face as she felt for whatever it was inside the wall. She made a yanking motion followed by a whoop of triumph when her hand emerged with a rusted device dangling on the end of several wires. She rose to her feet, grinning from ear to ear, handed the detached piece to his chief, and wiped sweat from her brow, smearing mech fluid along the way.

She looked radiant.

“What do you need?” she asked, clearly in a good mood from whatever she’d just accomplished. He hated that he was about to spoil it.

“To talk.” He nodded his head towards the hallway.

“Sure, just let me wash up.” She held up her stained palm, but he ignored it.

“Later.”

She frowned. “Is Peter okay?”

“He’s fine, but we need to talk.”

His expression must have properly conveyed the urgency because she nodded and followed him back to his quarters, though once there, Meredith kept sending longing looks at the bathroom, the only truly private one on the ship. Yondu rolled his eyes, waved her off, and sat down heavily on his bunk when he heard the sound of running water from the faucet. A moment later, Meredith came back out, wiping her hands on his towel. Her face was also clean of any grime, and Yondu found that he oddly missed that.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, curious but not anxious.

He sucked on his bottom lip, then nodded at the chair across the room. “You might wanna sit.”

For the first time since he’d assured her that her son was alright, the frown returned, and Meredith folded her arms under her chest. “I think I’ll stand.”

“Yer call.” He took a deep breath. “ ‘Member couple months back you asked about all the stupid shit I did when I was young?”

Meredith smiled at him. “You don’t actually have to tell me anything, Yondu. I know your life hasn’t been easy...”

“No, it hasn’t, and, yeah, I do.” He interrupted. “I need yer help… yer advice. For that, you need to know all of it. If you want off after I’m done, we’ll drop you and the boy on Xandar or any other nice inhabited world.”

She gave him an odd look, like it was finally sinking in that this was going to be that type of conversation, the kind that was usually accompanied by massive amounts of alcohol. Yondu sorely wished he had some on hand.

“Any world,” she repeated. “But not Earth.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.” He affirmed bitterly. “Terra’s too dangerous.”

“You’ve been saying that for two years. Am I finally gonna get an explanation why that is?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She finally did sit. “Tell me.”

So he did. He told her everything from his first contract with Ego, to the moment he began to suspect something wasn’t right about the Celestial. Everything came out very matter-of-fact, precise, like he was telling a story that had happened to someone else. Yondu supposed it was the only way he could manage it without cracking. The only thing he’d considered sparing her was the image of the cave of bones. It was also the only time she’d stopped him.

“How many were there?” she asked, gaze firmly focused on the floor.

“Meri…”

“How many?” Her eyes finally met his, demanding.

“Thousands,” he swallowed. “Maybe tens of thousands. I don’t know.”

It would have been both cowardly and pathetic to point out that he’d only contributed half a dozen to that collection. Meredith was quiet for a long moment then nodded for him to continue. They were almost at the present now, and Yondu told her about how he’d put everything together after that, so when Ego’s request to pick up Peter had come in, he took both of them and told the Celestial he’d found them dead.

Finally he told her about the latest contract he’d been offered and everything that came after.

“There you have it,” he said, feeling exhausted to the bone and more than a little afraid to look at her. “So, what’s it gonna be? Xandar?” Are you leavin’ me?

“No!”

The force behind that one word did make him look up. Sure enough, Meredith Quill looked pissed off, but Yondu had a weird suspicion - hope? - that it was not exactly the kind of anger he’d been fearing.

“Are you kidding me?” Meredith was on her feet. “Obviously we’re going to Spartax.”

“What now?” That was about the last thing he’d been expecting to hear.

“That’s why you told me all this, isn’t it?” she demanded. “You said you wanted advice. I’m pretty sure what you really wanted is for someone to tell you to do the right thing. So I’m telling you: we can save this woman and her baby. We’re going to Spartax.”

He stared at her, too stunned to speak, before finally managing. “Yer amazing.”

“Remember that when next I piss you off.” She actually laughed before her expression sobered. “If it weren’t for you, my baby’s bones would be right in that cave along with all the others. Whatever else you did… that’s yours to live with.”

“And if I decide to do nothing now?” he challenged, despite an internal voice screaming at him to stop. The hell is wrong with you? it demanded. Are you trying to make her hate yer guts?

But Meredith just shook her head. “You won’t do nothing.”

He scoffed. “How’re you so sure?”

“Because I stand by what I said in that conversation a few months ago.”

It took him a moment to remember. She’d said he was a good man. Yondu couldn’t imagine how she still believed it, but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue the point. Instead his mind shifted to logistics.

“We can’t bring the whole ship,” he thought outloud. “It’s too big, attracts too much attention. ‘Sides, most of the boys here wouldn’t be too keen on this kind of trip without gettin’ paid at the end.”

Meredith nodded. “So we take one of the M-ships. You and me.”

You and me? “Outta the question. Yer not comin’.”

“The hell I’m not.” Her hands were firmly planted on her hips. “You’re gonna need backup, and no offense, but your big blue mug isn’t the friendliest face a frightened, pregnant girl on the run from bounty hunters can imagine seeing.”

About twenty different arguments were on the tip of his tongue, but finally Yondu settled for just glaring at her. “Remind me again who’s captain on this here boat.”

“You are,” she replied almost cheerfully. “I’m still coming with you.”

Spartax was very impressive, Meredith had to admit. She’d stood on solid ground only a few times since their departure from Earth, but with the exception of their one trip to Xandar, it was only her second visit to such a diverse, cosmopolitan place. Dressed in civilian garb that still allowed for the concealment of his arrow and her blaster, no one had given her and Yondu a second look as they’d left the M-ship in the docks under a false identification and took to the streets, still decently busy despite it being the local night. Despite the seriousness of their mission, she couldn’t help but gaze at everything in wonder.

Next to her, Yondu must have noticed because he smirked. “What’s got you so excited?”

“I miss being somewhere other than space.” Meredith admitted, her eyes still roaming the street in front of them.

“Pete don’t seem too troubled,” Yondu shrugged. “What’d you tell ‘im about this little trip, anyway?”

“That we were on a secret mission,” she grinned. “Figured it’d earn me some brownie points with him, since someone keeps reminding me he’s a ten-year-old boy.”

“Devious,” the Centaurian nodded approvingly.

“Thanks. What’d you tell the crew?”

“Said I’m scoping out a possible new fence. The rest is need-to-know and they don’t need to know.”

“Good to be captain.”

“Damn straight. Now if only everyonelistened to me.”

She ignored that last part and they walked in silence for the next half hour. In reality, excuse or no, Meredith had a pretty good idea what the crew must have thought of this little outing. She’d heard the word ‘honeymoon’ tossed out in their general direction once or twice on their way to the hanger that Yondu had either missed or, more likely, ignored. She meant it when she’d said months ago that she didn’t care what they thought or gossiped about. Peter was a different story, of course, but the boy didn’t seem terribly bothered by the concept beyond the general weirdness of his mother being something other than just his mom.

“What’s the plan after we find her?” she asked when they were only a few blocks away from the apartment building in question.

“Tell the girl she’s in trouble. Relocate ‘er to Xandar.”

“She’s just going to come with us?”

“It’s us or the Badoon.”

“Fair enough. And you really think Ego won’t come after her on Xandar?” She’d only been to the planet once and as pleasant as it was, Meredith didn’t see how it was much safer beyond the fact that the Celestial wouldn’t immediately know where the woman had gone.

“He’ll look for a while.” Yondu didn’t seem concerned. “But he’ll move on. Always does. I don’t know what he wants with these kids, but when you’ve been around as long as he has, time ain’t really an issue.”

That made sense, and they continued on. She noticed that Yondu kept glancing over in her direction, like he wanted to ask or say something else but was holding back. Meredith had a pretty good idea what it was. He was wondering why she was here, so insistent on helping save a woman who was bearing the child of a man she had loved once. She knew it must have seemed strange from an outside perspective, but it was really quite simple: the man she’d loved never existed, and she was certainly not the naive, love-struck girl she’d been eleven or so years prior. All she needed to know now was that there was a monster who had murdered thousands of children, posed a threat to her son, and she’d be damned if she was going to let him take anyone else if she could help it.

Lost in thought, she almost bumped into Yondu when he stopped abruptly less than a block away from the apartment building. She was about to ask what was going on, but he put a finger to his lips in the universal call for silence and motioned for her to move behind the nearest building. He chanced a glance to the street then looked back at her.

“They’re here,” he whispered. “Two of ‘em.”

“Okay.” Meredith nodded. “That’s good, right? Fair fight.”

“Maybe.” Yondu didn’t look particularly happy. “Badoon are nasty buggers. Stay here.”

She barely had a second to be offended before he was across the street and moving towards the building. Stay here, my ass, Meredith thought, checked the safety on her blaster, and followed. Inside the building was quiet which was understandable given that it was probably the middle of the night. Meredith was up the stairs and at the apartment door in a moment, wondering why she’d not yet heard sounds of fighting. Surely Yondu and the bounty hunters had gotten here first…

A sharp whistle pierced the silence, and she had just enough time to shift her weight before the red after-image of the Yaka arrow whizzed less than an inch away from the side of her head. She followed the projectile’s path down the hall where it embedded itself in the golden armor of a tall lizard-like alien who gave a hacking shriek before collapsing to the floor. Yondu appeared from behind the ajar apartment doorway, snarling.

“What da hell you doing, woman? I told you to stay back.”

“Like that was gonna happen.”

She stepped up to the dead alien, unceremoniously yanked the bloody arrow out of its carcass, and handed it to him before brushing past him and inside the residence. On the couch inside the living room sat a distressed, dusky skinned young woman with her arms wrapped around her distended abdomen. Meredith didn’t know much about Spartoi biology, but if it was anything like that of humans, she was nearly at term.

“Hi.” Meredith force calmness into her voice and sat down next to the other woman so that they were at eye level. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Someone else is here,” the woman said in a shaky voice. “Badoon assassins…”

“Bounty hunters,” Yondu corrected, drawing her wide brown eyes on him. She didn’t look comforted.

“Can you check the back, please?” Meredith glared and shooed him off. “There were two of them.”

Yondu made an unhappy face but holstered his arrow and retreated, leaving the two women alone. Meredith squeezed the other woman’s hand.

“It’s going to be alright,” she promised and raised her free hand. “May I?”

The other woman nodded, and she placed her palm on her belly, feeling for movement. When she’d been pregnant with Peter, he tended to kick any time someone touched her stomach. His birth via Cesarean was unplanned, but other than that her pregnancy had been smooth, with the exception of the usual bruised organs he’d decided to play soccer with.

This baby wasn’t moving.

“Sometimes they slow down when it gets close to delivery day.” It hadn’t been her experience but she’d read that once and there was no need to scare the girl any worse than she already was. “When are you due?”

“Two weeks,” the Spartoi replied, brushing a tight dark curl away from her forehead. “But I haven’t felt her move since yesterday.”

Not good, Meredith thought but put on a warm smile she didn’t feel. “You’re having a little girl? That’s wonderful! I have a son, Peter. He’s ten.”

The knowledge that she was sitting with another mother seemed to put the young woman more at ease. She looked at her curiously and nodded at the exit. “Was that your husband?”

“No, that’s my...” she paused, unsure of how to explain. “That’s Yondu. Don’t worry. I know he tries to look mean, but he’s a friend, and his bark is worse than his bite. Hey, I never did catch your name.”

“I’m…” The woman stopped, her eyes suddenly going wide as she looked over her shoulder.

Meredith turned just in time to see an armor-clad Badoon in the doorway, hissing. She was on her feet in an instant, weapon in hand, and moving, drawing his attention away from the other woman. She squeezed off three blaster bolts in rapid succession. The creature raised his own weapon, fired, and missed before spitting out a profanity and going for a second attempt. The extra few seconds bought her just enough time to aim better and return fire.

The alien crumpled to the floor, dead, and Meredith exhaled a sigh of relief. Everything must have happened within seconds, but her spike of adrenaline was making her head spin slightly. Looking to sit back down, she turned to the other woman, more words of comfort on the tip of her tongue. It was over…

She felt the blood drain from her face sure as it was pooling around the woman on the floor.

“Yondu!”

Meredith was on her knees beside the other woman, heedless of the blood that now covered her palms. She felt for the wound, but it was difficult among the sticky fluid that soaked into everything. The woman was trying to say something, but only ended up coughing up blood.

“Save…”

“Hush.” Meredith grasped her blood-slicked hand, but her gaze searched the doorway. “Where the hell is he? Yondu!”

“Save… her...”

Meredith tore her eyes away from the door to look at the girl. The dying girl, she realized with a pang. Even if Yondu had been there when it happened, no one could live having lost so much blood. There was only one person left that could be saved.

“Ah, hell…”

She more heard than saw the Centaurian in the doorway. His sharp crimson eyes quickly scanned the room, noting first the dead alien then the girl. Meredith noted grimly that he neither looked nor sounded shocked, just resigned. The only time his face showed concern was when he looked at her.

“Are you hurt?”

“What?” The question took far too long to register. “No, I’m fine. I need…” she swallowed hard. “Get me a knife.”

Cursing, the captain disappeared into the adjacent kitchen, and she looked back at the woman on the floor, whose eyes were fluttering, barely staying open for seconds at a time. Doing her best to keep the contents of her stomach down and her hands from shaking, Meredith lifted the woman’s tunic to expose the tight skin of her rounded abdomen.

“I’m so very sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

It wasn’t lost on her that the last thing she’d promised the other woman was that everything was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

Yondu was worried.

He wasn’t worried about the three dead they’d left behind, the two bounty hunters and the girl. It had been late at night, and despite the impressive amount of blood, there had been little noise to draw attention. He’d even taken Meredith’s blaster on the way out and made a sizable hole in the first lizard to cover up the one made by his arrow. Blasters were common; Yaka arrows not as much.

He wasn’t even as worried about the baby, a tiny, wrinkled thing who’d refused to breath for a full minute after her violent birth. Her first cries weren’t particularly impressive either, and now she did little more than whimper, nestled in the crook of Meredith’s arm and mostly concealed by her jacket. Whether she lived or died, Yondu had very little control over that, as far as he saw. At the moment, her odds didn’t look all that great.

What he was worried about was Meredith. She’d come with him under some bizarre delusions of heroism and the notion that they would succeed because they were in the right, because their intentions were… noble. Yondu knew better, knew that nine times out of ten, one could take those noble sentiments and shove them up one’s ass, for all the universe cared about that. The Terran, for all she’d been through, was still so very naive to the way it worked. He was fairly certain that up until today, she’d never killed an enemy or watched an innocent die.

If that brat didn’t make it, he wasn’t sure what it was going to do to her.

They were back on the M-ship and taking off under two hours later, him piloting and her sitting in the co-pilot chair, though there was little she would be able to help with with an infant in her arms. He was grateful for decades worth of outlaw experience that overwrote his instincts to get the hell out of Spartax space as fast as he could. Speed tended to attract attention, which was the last thing they needed.

We can’t go back. The thought struck him just as they had made the first jump into an uninhabited dead system with nothing but a few gas giants circling an average star. Meredith must have noticed that they didn’t jump out right away. She looked out the window then back at him.

“Why did we stop?”

“We can’t go straight back to the Eclector,” Yondu said aloud. “I recon we covered our tracks well enough, but just in case, I won’t lead Ego’s goons or the Spartax muscle to my men. We’ll lay low for a couple days and...”

“A couple days?” The echo held more than a little outrage. “She doesn’t have a ‘couple days’, Yondu. She needs to be seen by a doctor. More importantly, she needs formula.”

“Formula?” He looked at the baby who seemed to be expanding what little energy she had into nuzzling into Meredith’s chest. “The hell is she doing?”

“Rooting.” He gave the woman a blank stare. “She’s hungry. Unfortunately what she’s lookin’ for ain’t there no more.”

He sat back, thinking. “Goin’ back to the ship won’t help with that anyhow.”

“The other children you…” Meredith started, but he shook his head.

“None of them were this li’l.”

This was not what he had signed up for. Provide a one-way transport for a woman and her baby to Xandar? Sure, he could do that. No skin off his nose, but this? With the exception of Meredith, absolutely nothing and no one on the Eclector was remotely fit to care for an infant. If not the Eclector… Yondu bit the inside of his cheek.

“Let me think ‘bout it,” he told her. “Give me an hour or so. Brat needs washing anyway.”

“She’s not a brat!”

“You got somethin’ else I can call ‘er?” Yondu snapped.

Meredith glared at him but rose and disappeared down the stairs towards the crew quarters, whispering words of comfort to the baby as they went. He made sure she was out of earshot, then reached for the console and punched in a communication request, followed by an identification call-sign that he’d never thought he’d use again.

Predictably, the call was rejected.

Undeterred, Yondu tried again.

Finally by the fourth attempt, the screen lit up, and the face of a once very beautiful and currently very angry woman stared back at him, her long black hair obscuring part of her face. The moss green of her uniform sported clearly visible Ravager flames.

“Yondu Udonta!” Her voice boomed across the speakers, and he hoped it didn’t reach down the stairs. “You have some nerve!”

“Hey there, ‘Leta.”

“Do not ‘hey there’ me. You have five seconds to tell me why I was stupid enough to open this com line.”

“ ‘Cause you miss my charming personality?”

“Three seconds!”

“Alright,” he held up his hands placatingly and took a deep breath, “I need yer help. Got a bit in over my head on this one.”

“You got in over your head a long time ago,” she crossed her arms. “Why should I help you? You broke the code.”

“You ‘fraid Stakar will find out? Always do what he says?”

Her expression hardened. “You want to try that again?”

Damn it, what was wrong with him? He closed his eyes for a second, mouth tight. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make yer life - ‘specially yer married life - more complicated, but I do need yer help. I have two other passengers here: a woman and a newborn.” Aleta’s eyes narrowed. “ ’S not what you think, but the kid needs to be checked out by a medic and we don’t have any food for her.”

“A newborn?” Aleta frowned. “Why doesn’t her mother feed her?”

“ ‘Cause she ain’t her mama. Mama’s dead.”

Her face ran the myriad of confusion, pity, the desire to ask more questions, but finally, as Yondu hoped, settled on resignation. Aleta nodded and punched something into the computer off screen.

“I’ll transfer you my ship’s coordinates,” she said, “and when you’re here, I expect the full story.” Yondu inclined his head in thanks. “One more thing: when this is over, you will owe me a favor of my choosing. That’s not negotiable.”

“Fine,” he agreed immediately.

Aleta raised a single brow, as if surprised at his quick response, but didn’t comment further before letting the connection drop. He checked to make sure he’d received the coordinates and began plotting the jumps. Aleta’s ship was twenty-seven jumps away. Perfectly safe for the two adults, but the kid wasn’t looking too good. Maybe two sets of jumps with a break in between for however long Meredith thought the kid could afford. He made those adjustments in the computer, set the autopilot on a timer to kick in a half an hour from now, and went downstairs.

Meredith was in the largest of the crew quarters, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg tucked under her. The infant was laid out on a sheet that had been folded over several times, making small, weak noises of protests as the woman ran a wash cloth over her skin. Most of the blood and amniotic fluid was gone though this seemed like a painfully slow way to clean her.

“Can’t you just stick her under a faucet or something?” Meredith looked at him as if he’d gone insane. “Hey, I said I knew where babies came from, but that’s kinda where it ends for me, darlin’.”

“Oh.” She pointed down to the remainder of the umbilical cord, tightly knotted off. “Gotta be careful with that. It shouldn’t get wet or she might get an infection.”

“How long before it... detaches?”

“A week or two, if Spartoi children behave as human as they look.”

In a week or two she sure as hell wasn’t going to be his problem anymore, so he said nothing. Meredith must have deemed the baby clean enough, because she picked up a spare sheet and wrapped her up. Then, to his dismay, she rose and held out the bundle to him. Yondu just started.

“Take her.” He opened his mouth, but she bulldozed ahead unceremoniously. “I need to clean myself up, too, and if it’s all the same to you, I gotta pee.”

“I’ll drop ‘er,” Yondu protested.

“You won’t.” Meredith ignored him and pressed the baby to his chest. “Just watch her head.”

She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving him alone with the infant, who continued to squirm and whimper as much as what little energy she had left allowed. He sat down on the bed and positioned the girl on his lap so that she faced him, carefully keeping one hand under her head. For a moment her unfocused brown eyes met his crimson ones, and despite himself, Yondu smiled.

“Welcome to the universe, brat,” he said in the same tone of voice he might have used with Peter or Kraglin. “Sorry ‘bout the rough start, but you’ve already made it further than most.”

She fussed again, which would’ve probably been a prelude to a good wail if she’d had the strength. The Centaurian cursed under his breath, uncertain of what to do. An old instinct tickled in the back of his mind, something Yondu hadn’t felt - had actively avoided feeling - in many years. He brought two fingers to the child’s head and ran them softly from forehead to temple.

The gesture didn’t do anything. Not exactly. Centurions were not touch empath like some other beings. Nor were they particularly powerful, only able to really connect with lower lifeforms, like non-sentient animals. An infant wasn’t quite the same, but with one so young there was not yet a guarded consciousness to penetrate. He could sense her hunger, the dull ache of an empty stomach he knew all too well. There wasn’t anything he could do about that one, but there was something else. She felt…

“Cold?” he ventured a guess and pulled the blanket tighter around her arms and shoulders.

The feeling of discomfort radiating from the baby subsided, and a half-formed smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. Not too shabby for someone who’d never held an infant or been properly trained to use his empathetic abilities. The little girl made a cooing noise and stuck half her fist into her mouth.

“Looks like you made a friend.”

Preoccupied with the baby, he hasn’t noticed when the sound of running water from the bathroom stopped, but Meredith was back, leaning on the doorway. She gave him a small smile, the first since they’d left the dead woman’s apartment, then her face turned serious.

“Did you figure out what we’re doing?”

“Yeah.” He rose and handed the baby back to her. “Autopilot’s gonna kick in in… fifteen minutes. We’re gonna go pay a visit to a friend of mine. She’ll be able to help.”

“She?” There was the barest note of surprise in her voice.

Unable to resist, Yondu smirked. “Jealous, sweetheart?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It was probably his imagination - or wishful thinking he’d never have admitted to - that she answered a little too quickly. “I just didn’t know you had friends outside the ship.”

“She’s a fellow Ravager captain, different faction.” We’ll see if she’s still a friend. “We’ll hang with her for a bit, then back to the ship.”

Meredith seemed to be thinking about it. “Can I talk to Peter before we jump?”

“ ‘Fraid not.” It might have been paranoid, but even contact with the ship felt like an unnecessary risk. “But when we meet up with Aleta, I’ll see if she can get the Eclector on the horn for us.”

Meredith’s head was spinning.

Actually she felt like the last eight hours were a blur that just refused to come into focus. So she sat back on the bed, all the pillows she could find piled up behind her, and focused on the feel of the baby’s skin against her fingertips. Eight hours without food was a long time for a newborn, and the girl was too lethargic for Meredith’s liking. The only thing she could give her was comfort, so Meredith pulled her shirt over her head, leaving only her bra, wrapped  the Ravager jacket around her bare shoulders, and cuddled the baby to her chest for nearly complete skin-to-skin contact.

The ship shook again, something she recognized as a jump after more than two years in space. She waited for the next jolt and, when it didn’t come right away, recalled that Yondu had said that they were going to take a break somewhere in the middle of the series of jumps. Sure enough, the door swished open a few minutes later, and the captain strode inside the room. If he was about to say anything else, he stopped suddenly, raising a brow. Meredith released a long exhausted sigh.

“If you’re about to make any comments about my clothes, save it. I’m way too tired for ‘nice undies’ and the like.”

Yondu held up both hands. “Wasn’t gonna.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“Fine, but they are nice,” he grinned, and Meredith scoffed. It was the most practical, least exciting bra she had ever owned. Not that the last several years offered a reason to have any other kind. Yondu nodded his head at the little girl. “What’s that all about?”

“Babies like skin contact,” she explained patiently. “It’s good for them, ‘specially the really little ones.”

The captain came around to the side of the bed and sat down, one leg stretched out on top of it, but not close enough for it to feel intrusive. When she stopped and actually thought about it, Meredith had to admit that for all his snarky or flirtations comments, he had never made her feel uncomfortable. He might have constantly skirted the line by a hair’s width but never crossed it. It was a path of thinking she didn’t have the time or the energy to contemplate at the moment, so Meredith distracted herself by absently stroking the baby’s dark curls.

“Peter used to love this,” she said wistfully, a smile tugging at her lips at the memory. “I used to hold him for hours, even if he was just sleeping. He was so warm and he smelled so good,” she nudged the top of the baby’s head with her nose and inhaled, “kinda like this one. You must think I’m crazy.”

“Nah,” the Centaurian waved his hand dismissively. “ ‘S… nice. Might come as a shock, but not everyone loves their kids as much as you do.”

She thought he was talking about Ego, but there was something in his eyes that hinted that it was perhaps even more personal than that, something she shouldn’t press him too much on. She sat up a little more, right palm behind the infant’s neck.

“You wanna hold her again?” she offered. “You look like you could use a baby to hold. It’s very therapeutic.”

“No thanks,” he chuckled. “She looks real comfortable where she’s at. Can’t say I blame ‘er.”

Meredith rolled her eyes, and Yondu reached out to touch the girl’s head gently with his fingertips. Almost instantly his amused, coy expression fell into a deep frown. He looked like he was listening for something for a moment, then cursed under his breath.

“She’s starvin’.”

“I can imagine. Eight hours for a newborn…”

“No.” Yondu’s mouth was set into a tight line. “Kid’s in pain, just not strong enough to complain ‘bout it.”

Meredith sighed. “It could be because she’s a little premature. Normally two weeks early wouldn’t be anything critical, but here… how long till we get to your friend’s ship?”

“Fourteen more jumps. So ‘bout four more hours or so.”

“She’ll make it,” Meredith pressed her lips to the baby’s head, then tilted her own to look at him. “How’d you know how bad it’s gotten with her?”

Yondu looked like he was weighing the option of not answering her. Finally, he said, “My… people, Centaurians, have some limited empathetic abilities.”

Both of her eyebrows shot up. “You read minds?”

“No, telepaths know thoughts. Empaths feel feelings.” He tapped the space on his chest over his heart. The look on her face must have been impressively outraged, because he smirked. “Don’t worry, sweetheart; far’s yer feelings for me go, I still gotta use my imagination. It only works on primitive or not-yet developed minds. Usually that means animals.”

“But also very young kids,” she ventured a guess.

“Very young,” he agreed. “Won’t work on li’l Quill. Not that I need special abilities to know when he’s bein’ a brat or why.”

“It’s called ‘parental instinct’,” Meredith countered the obvious bait with her own. Yondu bristled.

“I ain’t his daddy.”

“Hell of a lot more than his actual father is.” She returned her attention to the baby. “Could you… I don’t know… make it a little easier on her? If you can tell what she’s feelin’…”

“Would if I could, darlin’.” There was a definite note of regret in his voice. He could scream all he wanted about being a big bad Ravager captain, but Meredith knew for a fact Yondu didn’t enjoy watching others suffer. “I met a real powerful empath once, a young girl, who could change the way fully grown folks felt. I don’t have nearly enough juice for that sorta stuff.”

“Guess I should be grateful,” she mused. Whether or not the person he mentioned could control it or what she used it for, such a power felt far too intrusive for Meredith’s liking. “Most kids have something like that, you know.” Yondu looked at her curiously. “They’re real good at picking up on feelings of adults around them, even older ones. Why do you think I try not to fight with you when Peter’s around?”

“Because I’m captain, and you know I’m always right?”

“Ha! Keep dreamin’.”

“Anyway,” Yondu rose from the bed, “I’m gonna go send Aleta our ETA. Think kid’s up for that last batch of jumps?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t completely confident in that answer, but there was little choice.

“Good. Come back up to the bridge in about four hours.”

Three and a half hours later, she decided it was time to get up which was taking some time. The little girl had fallen asleep, and Meredith constantly kept checking to make sure she was still breathing. It wasn’t something she was used to with Peter, who’d been a very active, very demanding baby from the moment he was born. To hold a child that was too weak to even cry was heartbreaking. Finally, with ten minutes to spare, she was dressed and the girl was swaddled. Five minutes later, the ship jolted as it jumped for the final time, and she gathered the infant and climbed the steps to the bridge.

Yondu was in the pilot seat, typing in various codes, but he stopped and turned when he heard her enter. He was grinning, she noticed, and it wasn’t the gleeful smile that usually followed a whistle and a bloody corpse. The Centaurian made a wide, open-arm gesture towards the view screen where an enormous gray, almost shark-like ship floated. Its flank sported unmistakable Ravager flames.

“May I present Dauntless.”

“It’s different from the Eclector,” Meredith noted.

“Most faction flagships are. Ravagers don’t got a formal fleet, sweetheart. No deep-pocket sponsors like the Nova Corps. We take what we can get.”

“Factions?” She remembered him using that term before but hadn’t paid much attention. “How many Ravager factions are there?”

“Never you mind.” Yondu brushed it off. “Aleta’s the only one we gotta make nice with.”

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Aleta was not going to make it easy. At least not for him.

The other Ravager captain met them at the hangar as soon as the M-ship docked. Flanked by two others, a man and another woman, she wore a serious expression. Meredith was a step behind him, but Aleta was focused almost entirely on him. The trio stopped less than a meter away, and Yondu made a fist and tapped the space over his heart twice in the customary Ravager salute.

Aleta did not.

“I am still debating the merits of not shooting you,” she glowered.

“I have that effect,” the Centaurian flashed her a lopsided grin, “but you best decide quick. We’re kinda on the clock here.”

He nodded his head towards the too-still infant in Meredith’s arms, and Aleta’s attention finally shifted to her. Striding past him, she walked up to the other woman, expression thawing immensely. Though her reputation as ruthless Ravager captain was justly earned, Aleta was perhaps one of the few who didn’t consider displays of kindness as a weakness, at least to civilians. She smiled welcomingly at both woman and child.

“I’m Aleta Ogord, captain of Dauntless,” she introduced herself. “What can I call you?”

“Meredith Quill.” Meredith shifted the baby in her arms awkwardly. “I’d shake your hand, but…”

“Oh, no need to apologize. I can see you have precious cargo.” Aleta turned her head slightly, nodding to the man who had accompanied her. “This is my chief medical officer. He can take you both to be checked out and get that little girl some food.”

“Thank you.” Relief flooded the Terran woman’s face. “You’re saving her life.”

Something passed over Aleta’s face so quickly that if Yondu had not known the other captain for years prior to his exile, he would’ve surely missed it. Whatever it was, was gone in less than the blink of an eyes.

“Think nothing of it,” she told Meredith. “You’re both safe here. Though it’s more than I can say about this one.”

“Don’t know who you mean,” Yondu feigned innocence and looked back to his companion. “I’ll come find you when she’s done with me. Assumin’ I’m still in once piece.”

Meredith may not have had the full context but nodded and they split up; she, to medical with the baby, and he, to Aleta’s captain’s quarters. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, the woman rounded on him. He thought she was going to punch him - shooting was unlikely regardless of earlier threats - but instead Aleta pulled him into an unexpected hug. Despite the other captain being a solid half a foot shorter, he felt completely enveloped in it. She pulled back, searching his face. Her own expression had shifted entirely from the annoyance she’d displayed on the hanger to concern.

“Tell me everything.”

He did as promised. It was different from talking to Meredith. If Stakar had been like an older brother to him, Aleta was the closest thing he had to a sister. He’d told himself that if the Terran woman chose to leave after she knew the truth, it was because she didn’t know him, not really. But unlike Meredith, Aleta knew everything about his history, especially things he would have been more than happy to forget. Whatever judgment she rendered, he surely deserved.

Aleta listened, leaning back on the wall with her arms crossed, her frown growing deeper and deeper. Finally she asked, “This thing… is a Celestial? You picked a fight with a Celestial, am I hearing this right?”

“I didn’t pick the fight,” Yondu snapped. “I wish I’d never met the jackass, and you might not believe this, but I really didn’t know what he was doin’. I thought...”

“I don’t doubt it,” Aleta interrupted. “I’d like to think I knew you at least a little.”

Yondu sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t matter now. I’ve gotta live with the ghosts of those dead kids no matter what I believed.”

“What about the two living ones?” she looked at him inquiringly. “From what I understand, this woman owes you the lives of her children, possibly her own.”

“She don’t owe me nothin’, not after everythin’ I’ve done. An’ I told you before, she ain’t that brat’s mama.”

“Yondu,” Aleta looked at him like he’d just said something profoundly stupid. It was disturbingly reminiscent of his early Ravager days. “I spent a total of five seconds with them, and I am telling you, don’t even think about separating her from that child. Not if you want to keep her.”

“Keep her?” His crimson eyes flashed in anger. “She ain’t my prisoner. I may’ve sunk low, ‘Leta, but I didn’t turn slaver.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, you big oaf.”

They glared at each other for several heartbeats, but years of exile didn’t change the fact that they were family. Anger born from bruised egos wasn’t the kind that lasted, not with them. Yondu was the first to look away, admitting defeat. Aleta must have sensed that it was time to back off as well, because she changed topic to more neutral territory.

“I do believe we can bring that baby back to health. What is your next move after that?”

“Haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted. “Original plan was to drop the mom off somewhere like Xandar, but… well, things went south, so here we are.”

“You do understand,” Aleta said slowly, “that baby isn’t safe on Spartax or Xandar. A child of a Celestial…”

“...has absolutely no value to anyone but that jackass of a sperm donor. Like it or not, I’ve met more than one of these kids, an’ I’m tellin’ you, ain’t nothin’ peculiar ‘bout them that I can see. Don’t get me wrong, Pete’s shapin’ up to be a good pilot, but so’s a decent number of my men. That don’t make ‘em special.”

“Perception.” Aleta corrected. “It doesn’t have to be true for people to believe it is.”

“Yer right,” Yondu conceded, “so lucky for us, I can count on one hand the number of folks who know those kids are anythin’ but perfectly normal. Look, I’ve got the crew more or less toleratin’ having the Terrans around seeing as how they pull their own weight, but there’s jus’ no room for an infant. An exile captain takes what crew he can get, and they’re gettin’ rougher and meaner by the day. I can’t do what you do even if I wanted to.”

What she did was unprecedented among Ravagers, so much so that when Yondu had set foot on Dauntless all those years ago, he almost didn’t believe it. While it was true that the crew of the Eclector had grown rougher than other factions, Ravagers as a whole weren’t exactly known to be warm and fuzzy. He’d served with Stakar just a few months before being introduced to the other Ravager captains, and Aleta was one of the last. Even back then she and Stakar seemed to be giving each other a wide berth, despite being cordial and still married to one another. He hadn’t pried, but what he saw on board amazed him.

He saw families, even a few children.

It wasn’t like when an all-male crew took leave in a place like Contraxia. With a coed crew, things were bound to happen, between crew members and otherwise. Some gave up their children. Others left, understandably not wanting to raise their kids on a Ravager ship, but a handful chose to stay. Aleta didn’t encourage it, but on the rare occasion it happened, she accommodated as long as all adults in question were capable of performing their duties while looking after their offspring.

The other captain looked troubled by his comment. “Have you ever wondered why I do what I do? Or why big bad Ravagers have a special rule about kids at all?”

“Everyone’s got reasons for what they do. I try not to poke my nose where it don’t belong, lest it concerns me and mine.” Yondu shrugged. “As for the code… I jus’ assumed we didn’t wanna be one hundred percent dicks, even if we are usually a-holes.”

“There is that,” Aleta studied the floor for a long moment, then looked back up at him. “If I tell you, you must swear on your honor that you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone, not even your Terran woman, and especially not Stakar.”

“I’ve got shit for honor,” he pointed out dryly.

“You wouldn’t be here if that was even remotely true. Swear.”

“I swear.” Yondu inclined his head. “Nothin’ you say to me leaves this room.”

“Very well.” She took a deep breath as if preparing to tear off the bandage of a particularly gruesome wound. “You know Stakar and I are married. What you don’t know is… we had children. Their names were Tara, John and Sita.”

He stared at her, eyes like crimson saucers. Children? Stakar and Aleta had children? He’d seen his friends in many different roles, but ‘parents’ was just not one he’d ever imagined for them, any more than he did for himself. Yondu was so shocked by the revelation, he almost missed the most crucial part of her last sentence: the past tense. Unbidden, his mind traveled all the way back to the Eclector and Peter. No, he wasn’t the boy’s father, but he also wasn’t too proud to admit that it would hurt like hell to lose the kid.

“What happened?”

“They were killed.” He imagined her tone was the same as his own when retelling his crimes while in Ego’s service. “It was not his fault, but for a long time I blamed Stakar. Not that he dealt with it any better, burying himself in leadership of the Ravagers and little else.”

“Which’s why you two take vacations in opposite corners of the galaxy,” Yondu guessed.

“I love my husband,” his friend’s voice mournful, “but it is excruciating to look at someone and be able to see little beyond what you’ve both lost. It’s all we can do to come together for the sake of the Ravagers when needed. When we first gathered them into cohesive factions, made them something more than scattered bands of pirates and mercenaries and built the code, we swore that no one flying our flames would ever inflict the kind of pain on others that we had suffered. No parents should have to bury their children.”

No wonder Stakar had exiled him. With what he’d just learned, Yondu was surprised the other man hadn’t shot him point blank. The silence hung thick in the air between them, and finally all he could do was shake his head.

“How can you stand the sight of me?”

“Because I saw the way you looked at that little girl. You were willing to do whatever it took to ensure her survival. I also hear how you speak of the Terran boy back on your ship. You genuinely care for these children, and that has little to do with your guilt over the others.

“You think yourself a monster, Yondu, but you’re not. The Kree who enslaved you were monsters. The man responsible for my children’s deaths was a monster. Ego, the Mad Titan… these are all monsters, but not you. You’re nowhere near their league. You’re not even playing the same game.”

“And what’s this game I’m playin’?”

“The same as most of us.” The corner of her mouth curved a little into a sad smile. “The one where we make mistakes at times, then do everything we can to atone for them. It’s called ‘life’.”

In so many words, it was essentially the same thing Meredith had said. I don’t deserve this, he thought bitterly. Yondu had no idea where the unwavering faith and belief in his decency that these two women had in him, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do everything within his power to be a fraction of what they believed he was.

“I’ve missed you, sister.”

“I’ve missed you as well.” When she pushed back from the wall, her smile held nothing but warmth. “Now, come. Let’s go see to your Meredith.”

Even after more than two years in space, Aleta’s ship felt alien to Meredith. No, ‘alien’ wasn’t the right word. The crew was still incredibly diverse, but the ship as a whole felt far too tidy for that. She’d grown accustomed to a certain level of chaos on the Eclector. Dauntless was… well, not exactly the USS Enterprise but she couldn’t help but make the mental comparison.

The doctor led her into the medical bay, pointing to a shallow rectangular bassinet similar to the kind Meredith remembered from her own hospital stay immediately after Peter’s birth. Why a Ravager ship seemed well equipped to deal with a newborn she wasn’t completely sure but suspected it had more than a little to do with the mixed crew she’d seen on their walk to medical. Somewhat reluctantly she placed the baby down in the bassinet, and the doctor immediately turned on a set of warming lights above.

“Tell me her history,” he said as he began unwrapping the blankets and examining the infant.

“She’s about twelve hours old,” Meredith told him. “Delivered by emergency Cesarean. Her mother was… she died.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said, somehow sounding both genuine and professionally detached, and returned his attention to the baby. “Umbilical cord is tied off, which is good. We’ll clamp it off a bit more and trim it so it’s easier to deal with. She’s a little malnourished and dehydrated, but nutrition we can help with. The most important thing is that other than that, she’s clean, warm, and healthy. I’d say you did a great job given the circumstances.”

“Thanks,” she felt little better. “I was hoping I remembered how to do this. I have a son.”

“Ah, that explains it,” the doctor smiled. “Well, let me get a bottle ready for her. Two ounces to start with, then we’ll try for a little more if she’s up for it. We’ll try for every three hour or so, depending on her discharge.”

“Is that enough?” Meredith asked skeptically. She felt like Peter had consumed a lot more than that as an infant.

“If we give her too much, she’ll just throw it up,” the doctor explained patiently. “Don’t worry; much smaller babies have come out of this med bay perfectly fine.”

Within the hour, Meredith found herself sitting cross-legged on hospital bed with a raised back, the enthusiastically nursing baby cradled in her arms. Suckling apparently required a lot more energy than she realized, because the little girl kept stopping to take short naps. At one point when she started up again, the child opened her eyes momentarily and seemed to look at her. Not really full eye contact at this age, Meredith knew, but as soon as the doctors had brought Peter back to her after delivery, he showed a lot of interest in her as well.

She looked between the bottle and the baby in her arms. In hindsight, it might’ve been because he knew that ‘mom’ meant ‘food’.

“You remind me of your brother,” she told her charge. “Can’t wait for you to meet him. It’ll be love at first sight, I just know it.”

The the little girl spat up some formula in response.

“Alright, fair point,” Meredith agreed, “but give him a little time. He’s gonna adore you, don’t you worry.”

The baby went back to napping, so she took the now-empty bottle back and put it on the side table, just in time to hear the door to medical slide open and a pair of footsteps approach.

“How is she?”

Meredith looked up to see the two Ravager captains walking toward her. Whatever they had discussed, Yondu didn’t look the worse for wear, despite his friend’s earlier threats. The doctor came over as well, answering his captain’s query.

“A perfectly healthy child. We got some formula in her, and she perked right up.”

“So she’ll be alright?” Aleta confirmed.

“Just fine,” the doctor said cheerfully and looked at Meredith. “You can put her back in the bassinet. She’ll probably sleep for an hour or two now.”

“I’m okay holding her,” Meredith replied, though she had to admit the lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with her.

“I can take her,” Aleta offered. “Just for a few moments. If you don’t mind me saying so, you really look like you could use a break.”

“Alright.”

She waited until the other woman sat down on the edge of the bed before passing her the baby, who fussed a little but didn’t wake. Aleta held the child confidently, cooing and smiling down at her.

“She’s beautiful,” the captain declared and looked back at her. “What are you calling her?”

“How ‘bout Li’l Asskicker?” Yondu supplied before she could even open her mouth. Both women glared at him, but he just shrugged. “Three dead bodies all ‘round and not a scratch on ‘er? I’d say she’s earned it.”

“She doesn’t have a name,” Meredith looked down at her empty hands, for split second seeing blood that wasn’t there. “Her mother… I don’t even know her mother’s name.”

“I know what happened,” Aleta said sympathetically. “But she does need a name, and if you don’t name her, that honor is going to go to Yondu. We’ve both heard his very creative attempt.”

“I’m standing right here,” the Centaurian objected.

“I’ll think about it,” Meredith promised then changed the subject. “Is there any chance we can get in touch with the Eclector? I’d love to see my boy.”

“Absolutely,” Aleta nodded. “You can use the com in my quarters.”

Yondu cleared his throat then. “You sure you wanna go ‘round advertisin’ chit chat with my ship?”

“Whose business is it?” the other captain appeared bewildered by the question. Yondu shot her a meaningful glance that Meredith couldn’t understand, but clearly Aleta did because she scowled. “I talk to whom I want, when I want. And if I even suspected Stakar monitored my communications, we’d have a lot more than words. I’m a captain in my own right, Yondu, and his equal, not his subordinate.”

“Understood,” the blue man held up both palms. “Jus’ lookin’ out for you, is all.”

“Appreciated, but unnecessary.”

“Umm… excuse me,” Meredith looked between the two of them. “Who’s Stakar?”

Aleta looked at her with genuine surprise, then frowned at Yondu. “You haven’t told her about any of us? About Martinex and Charlie...”

“All in the past,” Yondu said gruffly, in the tone that Meredith recognized as absolutely final. She was sure Aleta had as well, but the other woman didn’t let it stop her.

“That is not an acceptable answer.”

“It is for now, and yer stressin’ out that kid.”

Sure enough the baby in the female captain’s arms was beginning to fuss in earnest. Aleta whispered shushing noises to her, stroking her curls until she settled again. She turned back to Meredith. “Stakar is the captain of a different Ravager faction, one of the founding members of Ravagers as you know them today. He’s also my husband and Yondu’s friend.”

“He was my friend,” the Centaurian corrected.

“I’m actively ignoring you,” Aleta shot back, and Meredith imagined this is what it must be like to have siblings.

“It’s alright,” she said. “He doesn’t have to tell me if he doesn’t want to.”

“You already know the worst of it,” Yondu replied, clearly annoyed. “What she’s talkin’ ‘bout has nothin’ to do with the here and now. Let it go, ‘Leta.”

She looked like she wanted to do anything but let it go, but very likely for the sake of the child in her arms relented for the moment and shot Yondu a look. “You and I are going to have a conversation you will not enjoy.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he muttered sarcastically then returned his attention to Meredith. “Let’s get the Eclector on the horn. You wanted to check on yer boy, an’ I need to see how the crew is.”

Though she was eager to see Peter, Meredith left the baby girl somewhat reluctantly and followed a step behind the two captains, lost in thought along the way. The exchange in medical felt a bit awkward, mainly because Meredith fully recognized that between the three of them, she had the least amount of information. Yondu didn’t owe her any more personal details than what he’d already shared, especially since she believed it when he’d said that he told her the worst of it. And yet…

All of those thoughts were pushed to the backburner when she saw Peter’s smiling face light up the com screen in Dauntless’ captain’s quarters. The background behind him told her he was on the bridge of the Eclector, but she didn’t see anyone but Tullk and Kraglin with him. Both men looked a little nervous, Meredith noted, but her son had her undivided attention.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey, Mom! How’s your super-secret mission going?” He tilted his head and frowned slightly, appearing to look over her shoulder. “Where are you?”

“On another Ravager ship.”

She figured if Aleta hadn’t bothered to hide the communication, there was no point in avoiding the question, especially not when she’d much rather avoid answering the first one. Peter craned his neck even further to get a glimpse of Yondu and Aleta who were talking quietly on the other side of the room.

“What have you been up to?” she asked before he could launch into another barrage of questions.

“Not much.” Peter told her about his day on the ship. It all sounded pretty normal, until he said, “so I was thinking… maybe I can… fly the Eclector for a bit?”

Variations of “no way!” and “over my dead body, boy!” echoed from both ships before Meredith could say anything at all. Yondu abandoned his conversation with the other captain to scowl at Peter.

“In what universe did you think that was going to work?”

“You let me fly one of the M-ships before,” the boy pointed out.

“Yeah, with me standin’ right behind you.” The captain snapped and turned to his friend. “You see what I put up with?”

“Oh, yes.” Aleta sounded amused, like whatever she saw wasn’t necessarily what he’d meant. Peter finally seemed to notice her then.

“Who’s the space pirate lady?”

“Watch your mouth, boy.” Yondu’s tone was a warning, but Aleta just laughed.

“That’s Captain Space Pirate Lady to you, child,” she said sweetly.

“Captain?” Peter instantly perked up at this. “How’d you get to be Ravager captain? Yondu won’t tell me.”

“I did tell you,” the blue man reminded him. “You gotta kill a few people…”

Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. Thankfully, the other woman came to her rescue.

“You have to be smarter than everyone else,” she told Peter, “and you have to make sure your crew respects you.”

“Okay, I can do that!”

Yondu sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment. “Gunnin’ for my post already, boy? My corpse ain’t even cold yet.”

“Stop it!” Meredith glared at both of them and looked at Aleta. “You see what I put up with?”

The captain still looked amused, but nodded with genuine sympathy this time. Yondu grunted in annoyance, and Peter just rolled his eyes. On the screen, Tullk stepped forward and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He exchanged a nod of acknowledgment with Aleta, something that Meredith took to mean the two had known each other before.

“Need to talk to the captain,” Tullk said in his thick accent.

Peter pouted but waved good-bye to Meredith and ran off the bridge to see to whatever duties he had left for the day. The older man took the center of the screen with Kraglin standing just behind his right shoulder. On Dauntless, Yondu stepped forward as well, but Tullk hesitated.

“Might be best to speak in private, Captain,” his eyes shifted between Meredith and Aleta. “No disrespect, Ms. Quill, Captain Ogord.”

“Wanna give me a hint?”

“It’s the…” Kraglin looked uncomfortable, “the jackass, Cap’n. He called askin’ for you. We told ‘im we didn’ know where yer at. He looked none too pleased with that. Said he’d call back soon an’ we’d best find you by then.”

Even after more than two years among space pirates, the string of profanities Yondu let fly made Meredith’s ears want to curl in on themselves. She was glad Peter had left the bridge of the Eclector. Even Aleta winced slightly. The Centaurian captain turned to them, still looking pissed as all hell.

“It’s Ego,” he said, like he was tasting something foul.

Meredith felt the pit of her stomach drop, but the female captain simply crossed her arms.

“I don’t suppose you can ignore him?” Yondu shook his head. “Fine.” She turned back to the screen. “Tullk, next time he makes contact, you patch him through here.”

Meredith and the two men on the Eclector stared at her, and Yondu all but snarled.

“The hell are you doin’ givin’ orders to my crew? Also... are you outta yer mind, woman?”

Impossibly, Aleta’s expression darkened even further.

“Speak to me that way again on my ship, and you’ll find yourself leaving it via the airlock without a spacesuit,” she glared at him. “I want to look this particular monster in the eyes, Yondu.”

The captain of the Eclector looked angrier than Meredith had ever seen him. No, it was more than that. He was scared, she realized. Fear of Ego for himself and his crew was something he’d accepted the moment he refused to deliver Peter as promised. Now there was another child involved, as well as a friend he clearly cared a great deal about. As if echoing her thoughts, he shook his head.

“I don’t wanna paint a target on the back o’ yer head, ‘Leta.”

“You let me worry about that.”

For a long moment, everyone on both ships was silent, because despite Aleta’s bravado, even Meredith, who was still somewhat of an outsider, understood that Tullk and Kraglin were waiting for Yondu’s word to do anything. The Centaurian chewed on his lip, deep in thought. Finally he looked back to his men.

“Do as Captain Ogord says,” he instructed them. “Jus’ give us as much warning as you can.”

The two on board the Eclector looked visibly relieved, whether it was because they didn’t have to deal with the Celestial themselves or watch the Ravager captains argue, Meredith wasn’t quite sure. Simultaneously, both men made fists and tapped their chests twice, as she’d seen Yondu do when he’d stepped aboard Dauntless. Meredith had surmised that it was some kind of Ravager salute, though she’d never seen it on board Yondu’s ship before. Then the connection was cut, and she was left alone with the two captains once again.

“Alright,” Yondu cleared his throat and looked between the two women. “I’ve got a plan.”

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for Meredith to realize that sleep was out of the question. It had been more than a full day since she’d slept, but any hope of that went out the window with news from the Eclector . Logically she knew nothing was going to happen in the immediate future. Yondu’s plan seemed solid enough to buy them more time, maybe even get the Celestial to leave them alone for good. But every time she closed her eyes, all Meredith could see was an image of the man she’d thought she knew with his hand around Peter’s throat, and the baby girl and her mother lying dead on the grass just steps away.

Giving up on sleep, she left the small quarters that had been given to her and made her way over to medical. It was right around time to feed the baby again anyway. The lights were dimmed, indicating the night shift, but a few medical personnel still milled about. What surprised her most was seeing Yondu there. He’d apparently wheeled the baby’s bassinet next to a bed in the farthest corner, lowered it so that he could sit on the bed and give the girl her bottle without actually taking her out. She wasn’t sure why he didn’t just pick her up, but regardless, the Centaurian’s gaze was focused completely on his charge.

Meredith walked over, smirking. “What I would give for a camera right ‘bout now.”

Yondu turned his head slightly. “That joke’s been made already.”

“By Aleta?” No one else would’ve dared even suggest this arrangement, and she had a sneaking suspicion he hadn’t volunteered willingly.

“She said that since her chief doc said kid’s outta danger, this’ how I was gonna pull my weight ‘round here an’ free up her medics.”

“That seems fair.” Meredith sat down on the edge of the bed next to him.

“I have more useful skills than babysittin’,” Yondu sniffed, “but no, cap’n’s orders an’ all. She even stayed long ‘nough to make sure I figured out how to mix this thing.” He tapped the side of the bottle with one finger.

Meredith laughed. “That woman is my hero.”

The blue man rolled his crimson eyes. “Was ‘fraid you’d say that, but kinda figured the two of you’d get on. She’s like you, only meaner.”

“Well, she is a Ravager captain, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” Still smiling, she nodded her head towards the baby. “How’s she doing?”

Yondu tilted his head slightly, looking at the child in that way that Meredith now understood meant he was trying to read her. After a heartbeat, he shrugged a shoulder. “She’s… calm, an’ li’l asskicker or not, she’d better stay that way. D’you know what came outta her an hour ago?”

“I can imagine. I raised one of these, remember?”

Meredith proceeded to tell him all about Peter’s first year and watched in amusement as Yondu’s face grew more and more outraged as she regaled him with all the joys of early parenthood. The captain looked disgusted and finally said, “You sure you don’t want me to let the crew eat ‘im? I’d say yer due some payback.”

“Not funny.” But she couldn’t help but laugh, so she amended. “Not funny if you're Peter, and you’re eight, and you just got kidnapped by space pirates.”

“ I thought it was funny. That threat still work?”

“No, sorry. You gave that one up when you started teachin’ him how to fly. Personally, I might add. She’s done, by the way.”

Milk bubbles were a sure sign of a full baby, so Meredith got up, put the towel from the side of the bassinet over her shoulder, and picked up the little girl to pat her back gently until she let out a small, wet burp and promptly fell asleep. She held her out to Yondu, but the man shook his head, and not wanting to put her back in the bassinet just yet, she shuffled back on the bed so that her back was against the pillows.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, with a sleeping infant in her arms, Meredith relaxed enough to finally begin to feel drowsy. At some point she more felt than saw the small weight lift from her chest as Yondu gently took the baby from her. She wasn’t asleep, but it was probably a good idea anyway. He put the baby back in the bassinet and returned, scooting up next to her. Not knowing whether she meant to do it or not, Meredith rolled onto her right side and buried her face in the shoulder of his Ravager jacket. There was a sharp intake of breath from that direction, almost like… Her mind was too sleep-deprived to think on it further, but she did feel her companion shift slightly.

“Meri…”

“Humm?”

“You know we can’t keep ‘er, don’t you?”

She made a face, but didn’t bother opening her eyes. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

There was a stretch of silence in which Meredith almost fell asleep completely, but even in this tired state, she knew him well enough to understand that it wasn’t the end of it. Forcing her eyes open, she raised herself on one elbow to look at him. Yondu’s face was lined as much with weariness as scars now as he looked back at her, clearly as exhausted as she was.

“Look,” Meredith sighed, “we both know how this argument is going to go, so for the sake of not stressin’ out our girl, I’ll save you the trouble. I’m gonna say somethin’ about saving a life and bein’ responsible for it, how we owe her mama seeing as how we got her killed. You’re going to give me a million and one perfectly good reasons why she can’t stay, and I’m gonna say something like ‘fine, then drop me and the kids off on Xandar like you said’, and then you’re gonna give in.”

There it was again, that sharp intake of breath, and now Meredith knew exactly what it sounded like: pain. Yondu’s crimson eyes bore into her. “That’s cruel.”

“I know.”

And really, she did. She wasn’t stupid or oblivious, just tired. So damn tired. If she was a better person, she’d go back to her own guest quarters and leave him alone or volunteer to stay with the baby and send him back to his. Heaven knew they didn’t need two Ravager ships gossiping about their relationship, though it might be already too late for that given the medics that milled about on the night shift.

Whatever , Meredith thought, too drowsy to articulate anything more coherent. The last thing she heard was the man next to her release a deep sigh.

“We can’t save ‘em all.”

I know. But we can save this one… She wasn’t sure if she’d voiced the thought aloud before sleep took her completely.

However long she slept, the lights were nearly at full brightness when she opened her eyes again, signaling the start of morning shift. Yondu was nowhere in sight, but she hadn’t really expected him to be. Still a little groggy, Meredith looked around, her first thought of the baby, but the little girl seemed perfectly content, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. Either Spartoi infants had some kind of magical power to sleep through the night immediately after birth or…

The door to the med bay slid open, and the Centaurian captain walked in a cup in one hand and what looked like a wrapped sandwich in the other. As soon as he saw she was up, he walked over and held out both to her. Meredith sat up, cross-legged, ran a hand through her short curls in an attempt to make herself slightly more presentable, and accepted the offered sustenance.

“Thanks.” She took a sip of the blessedly hot drink. “I’m not eating your breakfast, am I?”

“Nah, I ate with Aleta ‘fore comin’ back.” He checked the crib then sat down next to her.

“Did you also stay up with the baby all night? I didn’t hear her cry at all.”

“Got up once or twice. That’s all.” Yondu shrugged. “Why would she cry?”

“ ‘Cause that’s what babies do when they’re hungry or wet or…” she stared at him, realization dawning. “You sense what she needs before that, don’t you? Holy shit! You know most parents would kill for that kinda ability!”

He got up. “I’m leavin’.”

“No!” She reached out before remembering that both of her hands were full and placed the cup on the rolling side table. “Stay. I meant it as a compliment.”

“I ain’t a damn nursemaid.”

“I said ‘parent’, not ‘nursemaid’. It’s not an insult.”

Because now that she looked at him - really looked at him - Meredith couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he thought it was. She didn’t know his history, but there were clues, little things, like back on the M-ship when he’d mused that not everyone loved their kids as much as she did or how he’d bristled any time someone pointed out that he acted as Peter’s father or how he avoided holding the baby most of the time, which seemed bizarre after everything he’d done for her. Somewhere, something had done terrible damage to this man.

“It’s okay, you know.” Her voice came out in almost a whisper. “It’s okay to teach Peter how to fly, and it’s okay to give that little girl a bottle. It’s okay to care, Yondu. I swear it’s okay.”

The look on his face was torn, like he so badly wanted to believe her but just couldn’t bring himself to. If he was going to say anything else, he didn’t get a chance because Aleta strode into medical. There was definite purpose to her movement, but when she stopped a foot away, the captain’s expression shifted as she looked between the two of them.

“You know, maybe I should’ve given you the larger family quarters,” she mused. Meredith felt her cheeks warm, and Yondu sent his friend a murderous look, but the other captain put on her most innocent expression. “I just wanted to spare Meredith at least one night with a crying newborn.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Yondu’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Aleta just grinned back at him completely unfazed.

Something in their banter told Meredith that this was actually their first interaction of the day, which meant that… Wordlessly, she tore the sandwich she was holding down the middle and thrust half at the Centaurian. She figured he was more likely to eat if she didn’t call him out on giving up his breakfast to her in front of his friend. As predicted, Yondu took the piece without argument.

“You come here for a reason?” he asked Aleta, whose face turned serious.

“We just got word from the Eclector ,” she told them. “He’s waiting for us.”

They had debated doing this on the bride or in the Aleta’s quarters and ultimately decided on the later. The former meant either exposing Ego to whatever crew was on duty at the time, which was likely to lead to needless rumors and speculation, or else dismissing the crew, and an empty bridge looked suspicious. But two captains talking alone in Dauntless ’ captains quarters was perfectly normal, which was why the Celestial’s avatar now occupied the main view screen there.

Showtime…

“You know,” Yondu schooled his features into what he hoped was a good mixture of boredom and annoyance, “can’t say I ‘ppreciate you botherin’ my crew without me there. Ravager ships don’t run themselves.”

“My apologies,” the Celestial spread his hands in the most insincere expression Yondu had ever seen, “but I do have urgent questions that need answering.”

“Then say your piece and leave me to my business. I’ve got shit to do.”

“So I see,” the other man turned his most charming smile at the other captain, “and who is this enchanting creature, if I may ask?”

To her credit, she didn’t so much as flinch. Instead the woman returned the smile, though hers didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Captain Aleta Ogord of Dauntless .”

“Ogord?” Ego tilted his head slightly. “Any relation to Stakar Ogord?”

“You know my husband?” Aleta’s face was the very picture of surprised innocence, though her arms were folded in such a way that her wedding ring was prominently visible. Yondu thought it looked like a shield. “How interesting. He never mentioned you.”

“I know of him,” Ego conceded, looking slightly disappointed though it didn’t last long. He turned back at Yondu. “So… you’re back in the fold.”

“ ’S a work in progress,” the Centaurian replied casually. “Think I mighta mentioned it last time we talked.”

He knew he had. At the time, it was little more than an excuse for turning down Ego’s last contract, but now the lie presented an unintended opportunity. Because why else would Yondu Udonta be standing aboard the flagship of another Ravager faction? Ego’s gaze shifted between him and Aleta several times.

“And you’re doing it through Stakar’s wife. That’s smart.” Aleta’s face remained impassive, but from the corner of his eye, Yondu could see her short hard nails digging into the side of her arm. The Celestial went on, ignoring her entirely. “In any case, I can see you’re busy, Yondu, so I won’t take up too much of your time. I just have one small question: did you, by chance, ever make it out to Spartax recently?”

“All the way in the Shi’ar galaxy?” He knew the question was coming. “Hell of a hike from here and a waste of fuel. I ain’t got no business in those parts. Not since I, regretfully, couldn’t pick up your last contract.”

“I see.”

Ego looked thoughtful, and Yondu thought it wouldn’t have been out of character for him to show some curiosity. Information was power after all, and any Ravager captain worth his salt would dig as much as he thought he could get away with.

“Somethin’ happen on Spartax?” he asked.

Ego tilted his head slightly, clearly trying to read him. “Nothing for you to concern yourself with. Though I must say, I do regret losing your services. Good help is so hard to find. Perhaps if the lovely Captain Ogord is interested…”

“Thanks,” Aleta didn’t even bother to smile this time, “but Dauntless has enough work for the foreseeable future. Some of it, even honest.”

That made Ego laugh, so Yondu wasn’t sure if he understood that the last comment had been a shot at him.

“A pity. Well, if either of you ever change your minds, you know how to get in touch with me. Thank you for your time, Yondu.”

The screen blinked out, and for a long moment there was nothing but silence in the captain’s quarters, and no small part of Yondu was glad that Centaurians couldn’t pick up on emotions of adults any better than non-empathic races. He’d more or less gotten used to Ego’s mannerisms, but more importantly, he wasn’t a woman. Next to him, Aleta shuttered.

“That was… singularly unpleasant,” she wrinkled her nose.

He nodded. “If it’s any consolation, you did great. For a second there, I thought you were gonna bite his head off.”

“Damn straight,” she snapped, clearly still irritated. “You do understands how he talked to me, right?” Yondu wasn’t sure what to say, so she looked over his shoulder. “Meredith understands.”

This whole time he’d avoided turning. For all of Aleta’s fury, this was not nearly as personal for her as it was for the other woman in the room, who had thus far stayed out of sight but well within earshot. He’d argued against her being there at all but had been overruled since Meredith insisted and Aleta backed her up, why, he had no idea. Yondu knew he wasn’t going to like whatever he saw, but the sight of her made his heart clench. Twin trails of tears ran down her cheeks, hands balled into fists at her side. She took a deep breath and looked at them both.

“He sees women was tools at best,” she answered, voice surprisingly steady. “That’s probably beein’ generous.”

Aleta nodded. “On a ship - any ship - a normal person knows to show respect to the captain first and foremost, even if his business is with someone else. If he was within firing range, I would’ve blown him out of the sky.”

“I get that part.”

He wasn’t sure he saw everything they did, but didn’t doubt its validity. Ego was a piece of work, sure, but he had never seen him interact with anyone outside himself. Certainly not any women. Meredith had said that she found him charming back on Terra, and Yondu had never met the mothers of the other… That train of thought screeched to a halt as pieces collected over the years of dealing with Ego suddenly all clicked into place.

“We didn’t kill ‘er,” he said, mostly to himself. Both women stared at him, but he only looked at Meredith. “You said we got that baby’s mama killed. We didn’t. Even if those lizards had taken ‘er back in one piece, Ego wouldn’t’ve let her live. The other kids I picked up… they were all orphans, an’ I’m willin’ to bet that ain’t a coincidence.”

“Except Peter,” Aleta pointed out, but she didn’t sound like she doubted him at all.

The comment didn’t need a response, at least not from him. Meredith’s face pretty much said it all, and he could see she understood. Her immediate distress must have dissipated, because she wiped the tear streaks with the back of her hand.

“Peter was almost an orphan,” she told the other captain. “There was a tumor growin’ in my head that no one on Earth could do nothin’ about. If Yondu had gotten there a few days later… How can he cause a brain tumor?”

“He’s a Celestial.” Realizing the term probably meant little to Meredith, he explained. “They’re pretty much the closest thing we have to a gods out here. Remind me to show you Knowhere sometime.”

The three of them were quiet for a long moment, until Aleta finally broke the silence.

“He doesn’t think of women as tools,” she spat. “He thinks of us as cattle.”

No one was going to argue that point.

“Excuse me.” Meredith shook her head as if to clear it and turned towards the door. “I need to go see my daughter.”

Yondu’s first instinct was to object to the title, but it was almost instantly replaced with the need to say something comforting. He wanted to wrap his arms around her but knew it would be far more than she could handle right now. So he let her go and watched until the door slid closed behind her, and he was left alone with Aleta again. As much as Meredith’s reaction was hard to witness, he’d expected it. The disturbed look on his friend’s face was nearly as bad; he’d never seen the other captain look so unsure, maybe even afraid, something he wouldn’t have thought possible before this day.

“You need to have a contingency plan,” she told him. “I hope he bought all this, but we can’t be completely certain.”

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Always do.” Yondu assured her. “What are you gonna do?”

“As much as I’d like a very long, very thorough shower, no one excused me from ship duties.” She bit her lip, thinking. “You should stay a couple more days, for rest if nothing else. I still want to talk to you about a few things, but that can all wait till tomorrow. I think we’ve all had enough for one day.”

Yondu went back to his assigned quarters because there was no where else to go. Giving Meredith some space was the right thing to do, he figured, and as Aleta had correctly pointed out, a Ravager captain’s work was never done. Having gotten another batch of updates from the Eclector , he spent the remainder of the day shift working through a list of possible new contracts and targets and trying his best not to think about Ego at all.

It was only marginally successful. By the time evening rolled around and he felt like at least some useful things got done, Yondu decided that two shifts was enough was enough space and abandoned his guest quarters in favor of medical. He was almost there when the infant’s high pitched screech reached his ears. Momentarily impressed that it made it through the ship’s thick metal door, Yondu was more startled by the fact that he was hearing anything at all. In her short life, the little girl had never cried in his presence, first because she wasn’t strong enough, then - as Meredith had correctly guessed - because his empathic abilities allowed him to anticipate what she needed beforehand.

Upon walking inside, he was faced with a strange scene: a young medic, different one from the doctor who’d greeted them on their arrival, was standing over the bassinet with the crying infant while Meredith was a few feet away, her arms wrapped around her torso.

“The hell’s goin’ on?” he demanded.

“I was gonna give her a bottle,” the woman bit her lip, “but she screams whenever I come near. Don’t know why she hates me all of a sudden.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “She’s pickin’ up on your anxiety. You said it yourself babies do that, and anyone with eyes can tell you stink of it right now.”

“I’m fine!” Meredith snapped.

“Yer not.”

He walked over to the bassinet and scooped up the baby whose blankets were nearly soaked through with sweat from all the energy she’d exerted on crying. He’d seen both Meredith and Aleta settle her down with soft whispers when she’d fussed in the past, but apparently it wasn’t necessary. Almost as soon as she was in his arms, it was like clicking the Stop button on Peter’s Walkman, and all the wailing was reduced to little more than small whimpers.

“Get me somethin’ dry for ‘er,” he barked at the startled medic.

The young man quickly scurried to do as he was told and came back a moment later with a new blanket. Yondu balanced the baby in the crook of one arm and held the other out to Meredith, who seemed at a loss at first, then handed him the bottle, but the Centaurian shook his head.

“Gonna need an extra pair of hands here, sweetheart.” The Terran woman hesitated, and his expression softened by a degree. “Meri, he doesn’t know you or the kids are alive. Even if he did, he can’t touch us up here. You heard Aleta: she’ll rain hellfire down on his head if he so much as thinks ‘bout comin’ anywhere near this ship.”

He had no doubt of the truth of that statement, though it was unlikely to do any good. In theory, Celestials could be killed - Knowhere was proof of that - but Yondu had a sneaking suspicion it would take a lot more than Dauntless ’ admittedly impressive firepower. He was far from certain even the combined might of all hundred Ravager factions would be enough, but Meredith didn’t need to know that. The promise, for whatever it was worth, seemed to calm her, enough that when she approached, the baby didn’t object.

Together they changed the little girl’s blankets. Yondu kept the pulse of his empathic senses on her and was curious to learn that she seemed to prefer the tight, constricted feeling after she’d been swaddled once more. Apparently it was a common thing, because when he mentioned the observation to Meredith, she replied that Peter had been the same way. It still felt odd to Yondu, who, after twenty years of slavery, would have never put a price on freedom, but there was no denying the effect.

They ended up on the same bed where they’d spent the prior night. He’d meant to hand the baby over to Meredith as soon as she looked calm enough, but his companion had almost immediately curled on her side next to him and seemed to prefer to watch him hold and feed the infant. Occasionally, she’d reach out and stroke the baby’s cheek as if to assure herself that yes, the girl was still there and no, she didn’t hate her.

“You’re really good with her,” she told him at one point, and Yondu was surprised to find that the age-old instinct to argue the point didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

Chapter Text

The wedding band burned around her finger.

Not literally, of course, but Aleta was suddenly very cognizant of it, something that she had never felt. After all, it was always there. She could be no more surprised by its presence than her own appearance in the mirror in the morning. But now the metal felt warm, and it took her half-way through her primary shift to realize it was because she’d been unconsciously twisting it around her finger all day, since she and Yondu had spoken to the Celestial.

Her distracted state didn’t go unnoticed either. The bridge crew was giving her nervous looks when they thought she wasn’t watching. They were no doubt wondering what their captain had been up to for several days and why she seemed to be light years away. It must have been particularly noticeable because at one point, her second came up to her, speaking in a quiet voice.

“Did you want to check on your guests, Captain?” the young woman, Nikki, asked.

It was a way out if ever Aleta had heard one, and she nodded, silently grateful, and left the bridge. But instead of seeking out Yondu or Meredith, Aleta returned to her quarters, sights set on the long-overdue shower she’d been primising herself since morning.

She stripped and stepped under the flow, making the water as hot as she could tolerate it. She’d been in her fair share of scrapes, some that ended up with her and her teammates drenched in all kinds of unmentionable alien substances that took forever to wash off, but for some reason this felt so much worse. Aleta stood in the shower for a long time, waiting for the hot water to wash away some of the day’s exhaustion and help organize her thoughts.

Decades as Ravager captain, and what had she accomplished? Sure, Aleta had never lost sleep about Dauntless ’ missions and her crew respected and admired her, but what else? The friends that she’d once called family scattered all across the universe, a husband who she barely spoke to, and… Her palm ran down her body to trace the myriad of stretch marks and loose skin around her belly and hips. A body that showed all the proud reminders of bearing children, but no living ones to show for it.

Aleta pressed her forehead against the tiled wall and wept.

It took her almost an hour to compose herself enough to brave leaving the comforting confines of the shower stall and return to the rest of her quarters. As it was nearly night, she dressed in her sleeping garments, but her nerves still felt raw enough to know that any attempts at sleep would be useless. She sat on her bed for a several long minutes, before pulling the view screen closer on its hinged arm and, before she could talk herself out of it, punching in a communication request that felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.

The other flagship, Freedom’s Lady , answered in under a minute, and Martinex’s glassy visage filled her view screen. The younger Ravager looked a little startled at first, but quickly recovered and smiled at her, a genuine smile, so different from the last person who’d occupied that view screen.

“Captain Ogord.” There was a musical quality to his voice, almost like the effect of running a finger around the rim of a glass filled with water. “What can I do for you?”

She wondered if she was going to regret it before answering. “I’d like to speak to your captain, if he’s around. In private.”

“Sure thing, boss lady,” he grinned, and Aleta rolled her eyes.

“I’m not your boss, Marty.”

“You’re married to my boss,” he shrugged, as if it was the same thing, and the image blinked out as he went off to find Stakar.

Aleta pulled one leg under herself and waited. A moment later the screen came back to life, no longer showing Freedom’s Lady ’s bridge but quarters very similar to her own. Stark’s face looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but subconsciously catalog all the new scars and lines she saw there. Her own likely looked little better to him. New lines appeared as his dark brows drew together at the sight of her.

“Aleta.” His voice held a note of concern, but otherwise sounded far gentler than ever she heard it addressed to others. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Stakar.” I’ve missed you… Why were those words so easy to say to a friend, and so painful to even think towards her own husband?

“Marty said you wanted to talk to me in private. Is everything alright on Dauntless ?”

“ Dauntless is fine. This is… personal.”

The concern that colored his features grew, but he simply nodded and leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me.”

She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around one knee. “I spoke to a man today. A man who… greatly disturbed me.”

The other captain’s frown deepened. “Is this a mark?”

“No… maybe…” Aleta bit her lip. “The universe would certainly be a better place if someone took him out. I’ve met a lot of monsters, Stakar, but not like this. This… thing is a butcher of women and children, more than I could ever count. It all felt… personal.”

She couldn’t tell him that it was personal because a friend was involved, but even without mentioning Yondu, the statement still held true. The way Ego had looked at her made her skin crawl, and Aleta Ogord was not easily spooked. Stakar knew her well enough to see that.

“Are you in danger?” he asked, and she knew that despite their separation, if she’d even hinted that that was the case, her husband would already be halfway to rallying every single Ravager faction to come to her aid.

“No.” At least she didn’t think she was. Ego seemed to lose interest in her early on. “I think I just wanted someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy for… I don’t know....”

Saying it all aloud, she felt stupid, but Stakar shook his head. “After what happened to us…”

He faltered, voice breaking almost imperceptibly, and Aleta dropped her gaze to her hands. There was no need to go any further. The pain of their shared loss flared up, like a vice around her heart. Not that it ever left, but somehow once together,  it hurt all the more, reminding Aleta why they tended to avoid each other. Still, she so desperately wanted to talk to him…

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out finally. “I know I’ve said many unbelievably cruel things to you after. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of them.”

Not brave enough to look up, Aleta nevertheless heard him draw in a breath, then swallow hard, like he’d been waiting for years to hear her say that.

Perhaps he had.

“You meant ‘em at the time,” he said quietly, and Aleta had to force herself not to flinch. She deserved it. “But I said and did a lot of things I’m not proud of after that day. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

Her response was immediate, so contrary to the blind anger that had been eating away at her for years, and Aleta felt the weight of it finally lift from her chest. Not the grief - that would never leave them - but for the first time in years, she was able to meet her husband’s gaze without pain. He looked better as well, Aleta noted. Within the mere moments that their exchange had taken place, Stakar’s face was more relaxed, perhaps even a little younger as some of the lines seemed to smooth out.

“I held a baby yesterday,” she said casually, steering the conversation into more neutral territory, because strangely enough, it didn’t hurt to talk about kids in general. “A little girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” Stakar went along, showing mild interest, the same he might have displayed if she asked him about his opinion on a piece of clothing or jewelry. “ Dauntless had a new one?”

“No.” Aleta chose her words carefully. “This one is a rescue. She would’ve been one of that madman’s victims if it wasn’t for some very brave individuals.”

“Sounds like people I’d like to buy drinks for,” Stakar smiled, and the corner of Aleta’s lips curled upward as well, though probably not for the reason he thought. He paused. “Speaking of grabbing a few drinks…”

Aleta was puzzled why he trailed off until it suddenly hit her. He was asking her out, sounding oddly uncertain, almost exactly as he had as a young man. What felt even stranger was that she found her own cheeks warm. Ridiculous , Aleta thought. They were married, but still… it felt oddly nice to be wooed again.

“I have guests that still require my attention for a few more days,” she said. Stakar nodded, but clearly looked disappointed. “But afterward, yes, I’d like to see you. Very much.”

Chapter Text

Four days after their arrival on Dauntless , the ship’s chief medical officer finally deemed the baby girl well enough that she no longer needed to remain in medical. Thrilled with the news, Meredith decided it was time she saw a more of the ship than just the inside of med bay and with the little girl happily asleep in a sling at her chest, she set out to explore.

It was a massive ship, far larger than the Eclector , and by the time Meredith made a single circuit, she was already tired and even a little hungry. The baby had woken up as well, not particularly fussy yet, but instead showing sporadic interest in the world around her. Bright brown eyes blinked up at Meredith, studying her. Though she had been only introduced to a few crew members, most of the people she passed gave Meredith nods and sent smiles in the direction of the baby. By now, she’d learned just how different Dauntless ’ crew was from the Eclector ’s, but it still felt odd to see strangers - especially Ravagers - so friendly. Which made her growing unease all the harder to ignore.

The Eclector was not a place for a newborn.

It was hardly a place for her and Peter, but they had adjusted, picked up ways to be useful enough that Yondu wasn’t that hardpressed to find excuses for them to stay, and in hindsight, Meredith realized that it must not have been easy for him. How in the world were they going to justify an infant? Even more importantly, how were they going to keep her safe? She’d been so focused on Ego that she hadn’t had a chance to think about the rest of Yondu’s crew. Good people like Kraglin and Tullk might grumble for show, but they’d go along with whatever their captain decreed. Folks like Horuz would certainly have no qualms if something were to happen to the infant.

Finding her way to the mess hall, Meredith picked up a bowl of stew and sat down at an empty table. Could she leave the Eclector ? Her first year there, she’d wanted nothing more than to go back to Earth. The second was spent resigned to the idea that it wasn’t going to happen. She had Peter, and all in all, Yondu wasn’t so bad. Besides, having seen the vastness of space, her small town just didn’t hold the same nostalgia that it used to. If people there gossiped about her son out of wedlock, she could only imagine what they’d say if she arrived with a dark skinned baby in her arms. At least in that regard, Ravagers certainly had the right idea: they didn’t give a flying fuck. She briefly entertained the idea of bringing Yondu, in all his cobalt glory, back home to Missouri and nearly burst out laughing.

“That’s somethin’ they’ll be talkin’ about for a long while, huh, baby?” she said to the little girl and tapped her nose playfully with a finger, which the child promptly grabbed and stuck in her mouth. She laughed and let her suck on the knuckle of her index finger for a moment.

“She looks really good,” Meredith looked up to see Dauntless ’ captain standing at her table, a hot drink in one hand.

“All thanks to you and your medics.” She extended a hand to indicate the seat across. “Would you like to join us?”

“I have a little time.” Aleta sat, taking a sip of her drink. “How is Dauntless treating you?”

“Honestly?” Meredith cast her gaze around the mess hall. “This might be the nicest place I’ve been since Earth. Really, thank you. You saved my daughter’s life. There aren’t enough ways in the universe for me to express how grateful I am.”

“It’s really amazing, isn’t it?” The other woman smiled down at the baby in her arms. “That instantaneous bond. I told Yondu the day you arrived that he’d better think twice before separating you two.”

Meredith pressed her lips into a tight line. “I won’t give her up.”

“But you know what the crew of the Eclector is like,” Aleta finished for her. “And more than anything else, you want to keep your family together.”

“Yes.” It was like she was reading her mind.

“I know. You and I are not so different.” Yondu had said as much, though at the time Meredith wasn’t sure she agreed. “As it happens, I want the same thing. Part of my family was taken from me a long time ago. That can’t be helped. But I gave up another, and that was a grave mistake I intend to rectify.”

“You’re talking about Yondu.”

The captain nodded. “How much do you know about his exile?”

“Exile?” Meredith had never even heard the word, though she knew now he had some kind of falling out with Aleta’s husband. “He only told me about Ego and the kids.”

“That’s unfortunate.” The other woman wrapped both hands around her drink, quiet for a long moment. “I can’t tell you his life story, Meredith. As his friend - his family - I won’t betray his confidence, no matter how wrong I think he is for keeping these things from you. But there are certain things you should know, namely about how Ravagers function as a group and what his exile means for him and the Eclector . When I’m done, I’ll give you an option, a way to save both of our families, but it’ll require some trust on your part. And some sacrifice.”

Meredith listened warily, and it felt a little like the talk she’d had with Yondu before they left for Spartax, when he’d told her everything he’d done while in Ego’s service. What Aleta was telling her explained a lot, but when the captain got to her proposal, the Terran woman recoiled as if struck. It felt like even Yondu’s confession before their departure hadn’t hit her as hard.

“What you’re asking for…” she shook her head.

“I’m asking,” Aleta looked at her not unsympathetically, “for you to help me save my brother’s life.”

No small part of Meredith wanted to rage. How dare the captain ask something like this of her? After everything she’d been through, how could she… But even through the haze of anger, Meredith could see the wisdom of all of this. Apparently Aleta never thought less than ten steps ahead, and she sure as hell knew her people, regardless of years of separation. Meredith sighed, hugging the baby to her chest, and pressed her lips against the child’s curls.

“I want to talk to my son first,” she said.

“I had absolutely no doubt about that,” Aeta smiled. “Which is why I have the Eclector on stand-by.”

As it happened, Peter was completely on board with this plan. Standing in front of the view screen in Aleta’s captain’s quarters, she looked back at her son and marveled at the ten-year-old’s capacity for selflessness and goodness. If she’d ever, even for a second, thought Ego had tainted him, all of that was swept away after he listened, then nodded seriously.

“This’ important,” the boy said.

“I think so, baby.”

“Cause Yondu’s got his head up his ass.”

“Peter Jason Quill!”

“Oh, sorry. Yondu’s got his head up his butt .”

Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Trying to keep Peter from picking up bad habits to a minimum on the Eclector was an all-but impossible task. Out of sight of the view screen, Aleta, with the baby in her arms, snorted. Okay, so Peter wasn’t exactly wrong, because her next stop was said stubborn-ass Centaurian and she had a feeling that conversation wasn’t going to go nearly as smoothly as this one.

“Thank you, my darling son,” she said, a little jokingly but mostly very serious. “I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

“Yup!” Peter replied cheerfully, and the connection to the Eclector was severed.

Now came the hard part.

Yondu was, predictably, in his guest quarters. Meredith was fairly certain that he spent the majority of his time there, whenever he was not in medical with the baby or talking to Aleta. Disposed wrappers from food told her that he hadn’t eaten in the mess hall often, if ever. When she walked in, he was hunched over the computer console, likely checking on things back at the Eclector . Meredith cleared her throat, and he looked up and instantly frowned.

“I don’ like that look.”

She blinked. “What look?”

“That one. The one on yer face.” He scanned the space around her. “Where’s our girl?”

Our girl… Meredith had to fight the urge not to laugh or cry, she didn’t know which. “She’s in the nursery. She’s fine. I’m just taking a little break so we can talk.”

His expression hardened, obviously already knowing he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say. She walked over and leaned on his desk, but Yondu remained sitting, consciously or not giving her the upper hand. He didn’t speak though, which Meredith took as a sign that she’d have to do most of the talking no matter what.

“You said that we couldn’t keep the baby,” she reminded him, watching a pained look cross his face. “You were right. If we bring her back to the Eclector , half the crew’s gonna think you’ve gone soft, and you’ll lose control of ‘em.”

He sighed. “You know I got nothin’ against that kid, Meri. If it were jus’ up to me...”

“I know.” Meredith held up a hand. “I understand a lot better now. You never told me the Eclector was an exile ship.”

Crimson eyes narrowed as his expression shifting from sympathy to anger in an instant. “Aleta has a big fuckin’ mouth.”

“She loves you. The way I hope that baby girl will love Peter one day. And I didn’t need to know your collective backstories to see that that woman’s fiercely protective of her family. She’s convinced this exile will eventually kill you. Is she right?”

Yondu cursed and bit his lip, fists clenching. Meredith have him the time to gather his words, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“I ain’t the first Ravager t’ be kicked out,” he said finally, looking down at his hands. “Code’s there for good reasons, an’ it’s a damn fine code. If Ravagers let just anyone in… well, you know what the Eclector ’s like.”

“It’s gettin’ worse, isn’t it?” Meredith guessed quietly.

“Yeah. When Stakar exiled me, ‘bout a third of the crew stayed. Folks like Tullk, who’re too loyal for their own good. Kraglin was too young to know better, so he stayed. I shoulda sent him home to Xandar, but in case you haven’t figured out yet, I ain’t too good with kids.”

“That’s garbage,” Meredith rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, most stayed for the money, not outta some misguided sense of loyalty. They think jus’ ‘cause Ego paid well, all dirty jobs will. Really pissed ‘em off when we didn’t deliver Pete two years back.”

Her memories of the first few weeks on the Eclector were fuzzy as she was still extremely sick at the time, but she distinctly remembered the red after-image of Yaka arrow. More than a few of the crew had obviously been less than thrilled at their lost pay day when Yondu reneged on his deal with Ego. Not that the people who took their places were much better, which, of course, was the point.

“So,” she ventured a guess, “decent work get scarce for an exile ship, so you make more and more compromises. Good people leave, and the far from decent ones take their place. The worse the jobs, the worse the crew.”

“The worse the captain,” Yondu finished for her. “But there’re some lines even I won’t cross. One fine day, they’ll insist on some job I won’t go for, and then I’ll have a mutiny on my hands. I might survive one, but it can’t go on forever like that. I know I ain’t gonna die of old age, Meri. It’s no less than I deserve for all those other kids. I’m fine with that.”

“Yeah, well, Aleta and I ain’t.” It was all pretty much how the other captain had told it to her, but hearing it from Yondu, Meredith was even more determined that it wouldn’t be his fate. He scowled.

“I shoulda known introducin’ you two was a mistake.”

“Too bad.” Meredith said stubbornly. “You know, this all sounds an awful lot like my tumor. Every doctor back on Earth I’ve ever talked to said they could only slow it down, not stop it. Eventually it would kill me no matter what. I was resigned to that… until you came along. I’m askin’ you to let us save you, the way you saved me and my kids.”

“An’ how you figure yer gonna do that?”

“By turnin’ your lie to Ego into the truth. Only way to stop the rot on the Eclector is to end your exile.” Yondu released a derisive snort, but she ignored him. “Talk to Aleta. She has a plan, and you know better than to underestimate the undisputed Ravager queen.”

“Ain’t the queen that’s the problem.” He sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to ‘er, but don’t hold yer breath.” Meredith hesitated, and he frowned again. “Somethin’ else on yer mind?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “Aleta’s offered me a place on Dauntless . Until the Eclector is stable…”

“Yer leavin’ me.”

The heartbreak in his voice was so overwhelming that Meredith had to momentarily close her eyes. She knew this was going to be the hardest part of the conversation but even that didn’t quite prepare her. Shifting closer so that she was directly opposite of him, she knelt on her haunches, surrendering her position of power. Much like she’d done with Peter when he was very small and she needed him to pay attention, Meredith took his hands between her own. He didn’t look back at her but didn’t withdraw either.

“I’m takin’ care of our girl,” she said, intentionally using his own words. “And we’ll be back. As soon as this…”

He snorted, and she bit her lip, realizing that any words of hope, of reunion after his exile was at an end meant nothing to him because he still didn’t believe that it would ever come to pass. Luckily, he was much more predictable than he thought.

“Anyway,” she licked her lips, “I’m not leavin’ you alone: Peter’s stayin’.”

“What?” This time Yondu looked up, and there was an odd look on his face, not one she could qualify properly. She thought he’d be happy, but instead Yondu looked… angry? Disappointed? With her? Meredith wasn’t sure. “Yer leavin’ yer boy on a ship you yerself consider dangerous? Why?”

Cause left alone, you’ll just go off to sulk in some corner of the galaxy and none of us will ever hear from you again. “He still has a lot to learn from you, and whether you believe it or not, I know I’ll see him again soon. I’ll see you both again soon.”

Stalking down one of the hallways of Dauntless , Yondu idly contemplated the repercussions of killing its captain. Still, he had enough sense not to storm onto the bridge and instead parked himself in front of her quarters, glaring at anyone who walked by and sent him curious looks. Luckily, her main shift was over soon after. When Aleta arrived fifteen minutes later, she took one look at him and sighed.

“Come on,” she waved him inside

The instant the door closed behind them, Yondu rounded on her. “What the hell, ‘Leta?!”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Her tone was infuriating, like she was talking to a child. “Use your words, brother.”

“Oh, no. You got no right to pull that line! You know damn well what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Why’re you doin’ this to me?”

“Because whether by mutiny or Ego, it’s all leading to one thing, and I refuse to go to your funeral!” That shut him up, but only for a second. Yondu opened his mouth to argue, to tell her she was being dramatic, but Aleta held up a hand. “Let’s be clear: I don’t care if you’re pissed off with me right now. You came to me for help…”

“For the girl!”

“…and you don’t get to pick what that help looks like. This is for the girl, for all of you. Do you really think Meredith or those kids would be better off without you?”

Yes . “Then why are you takin’ her away from me?”

“I’m not! I’m trying to make it so that all of you can stay together.”

“Bull! You might think you know me, but I see through you too, sister .” He snarled the last word. “An’ I don’t give a shit ‘bout yer guilt.” Not when I deserved it…

“Guilt isn’t the right word.” Aleta sighed and crossed her arms. “Make no mistake, Yondu: you’ve made more than a few extremely poor choices and certainly earned your exile. As a captain, I supported Stakar’s call for it and would do so again, but as your family… You fucked up, but so did we.” She shook her head, then met his gaze. “Consider this: when one fine day Peter does something colossally stupid - and trust me, he will - would you write him off?”

“Course not,” his response was instantaneous. “But he ain’t ever gonna sink to my level. He’s better than me.”

“He’s not as damaged as you,” Aleta corrected. “Let me ask something: why do you think Ego targeted you? There are one hundred Ravager captains, some of them, I know for a fact , with much less scruples. Why you ?”

“I’m guessin’ yer gonna tell me.”

“Because you were the most vulnerable of us.” He was ready to protest, but she plunged ahead. “What better target than a former slave, rejected by his own parents, but who craves a family so badly. I imagine the idea of reuniting these poor orphans with their loving father must have sounded so… sweet.”

Yondu narrowed his eyes and glared at her. Every word stung, because each and every one was true. He ran his tongue over his crooked teeth. “Must be nice t’ always be the smartest person in the room.”

Aleta smirked. “It’s not bad. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t miss the old days. Charlie, Krugarr, even Stakar. Especially Stakar.”

“Stakar don’t give a shit.”

“That’s not true,” she objected. “Whenever the captains gather, I hear your name from him more often than my own, and, no offense, but that’s a problem for my marriage.”

That ain’t your biggest problem , he thought, but let her continue.

“If anyone feels guilty,” Aleta said seriously, “it’s him. He freed you, took responsibility for you. I understand it’s not the same as you and Peter. He’s more your brother than your parent, but though it hurts him to remember it, he was a father once. He should’ve looked out for you better. We all should’ve.”

It was all too much. Too many words, too many emotions, and something too close to hope. Hope was dangerous, he knew. Possibly the most dangerous thing in the universe, but no matter how hard Yondo tried to ignore it, it continued to burn in the center of his being. Aleta stepped forward and grasped him by the shoulders, her expression both serious and sympathetic.

“I know this is hard for you, but please trust us. This isn’t forever, not even for that long. A few months at the most, and you can come and see them whenever you like as time permits. Your daughter won’t even have a chance to miss you. As for Meredith… they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

He scoffed. “Yer crazy.”

“And you’re in denial, but that’s alright, because she’s much smarter than you are.” Aleta smiled, and Yondu wasn’t going to argue the point. “Remember when you first contacted me, I told you you’d owe me a favor of my choosing? This is that favor.”

Halfway back to his guest quarters, Yondu realized he had no idea what he was going to do once he got there. No more work was going to get done that day, that was for damn sure. He stopped in the middle of the hallway for a moment, then pivoting on the heel of one boot, made his way over to the nursery. The two caretakers of the smallest of Dauntless ’ children whose parents were still on shift must have been told about him in advance, because no one objected when he walked over to the  crib that held…

Our girl… your daughter… Meredith and Aleta’s words rang in his head until he all he wanted to do was clamp his hands over his ears to drown them out. He blew out a breath and looked down at the baby.

“Hey there, sunshine.”

The little girl gurgled, and Yondu could’ve sworn she smiled at him. He didn’t know much about infants, but he was pretty sure it was impossible for a child so young. Regardless, she radiated contentment and seemed perfectly happy to let him carefully pick her up, not even complaining when he brushed the rough pad of his thumb over the smooth skin of her cheek.

“You know,” the Centaurian mused, “yer the only girl in my life I wanna hang with right ‘bout now. What say you and me go for a walk?”

That idea didn’t last long. If Meredith returned the crew’s smiles and nods in kind, Yondu would have found them annoying if he were in the best mood possible which was about as far from the case as it could get. Quickly getting tired of glaring at anyone who tried to make nice, Yondu escaped back to his quarters. Not that his charge minded. A little cranky during their walk, the little girl now looked perfectly happy, nestled in the crook of his right arm. Yondu settled on his bunk with his back against the wall and picked up a datapad with his left, quickly finding the most boring galactic news for his own distraction and the baby’s entertainment.

“‘...The Nova Corps’ secondary fleet, thus far on the defensive, have dealt a major blow when they destroyed an outpost within the Turunal system, not far from Kree-Lar, the Kree’s homeworld’,” he read aloud and raised a brow. “Huh, good for them.”

Whatever else they did, at least the Nova Corps. didn’t use slave labor.

“Never thought I’d hear you rootin’ for the space cops,” came a quiet voice from his doorway. Yondu looked up from the news article to see Meredith standing there. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Anyone who’d take those bastards down a few pegs,” he said.

Meredith nodded, blessedly without asking more questions, and walked over to sit on the bed next to him. She reached out to the baby, who instantly grabbed her index finger, wrapping her whole tiny hand around it. She smiled and looked at him.

“The nursery staff told me you took her, so I came by to check on you two.”

“Yeah, well,” he inwardly winced at her choice of words. “Figured I ain’t gonna see ‘er for a while so…”

“Yondu,” Meredith sighed, hanging her hands almost helplessly between her knees, “you know if there was any good way…”

“I know,” he nodded, too tired to argue again. Instead he tilted his head slightly in her direction. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.”

“Why’re you leavin’ Peter on the Eclector ?”

“I already told you…”

“Yeah, I know what you said. Some bullshit ‘bout havin’ t’ learn stuff from me.” He leveled her with a crimson stare. “I want the real reason, Meredith, or I ain’t goin’ ‘log with any of this… insanity.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at her or the way he’d used her full name, something he could never remember doing in the last two years of having the Terrans on board, but Meredith finally sighed and met his gaze.

“ ‘Cause right now, you need ‘im more than I do.” She studied his face for a moment, then frowned. “This is what’s been botherin’ you the most, isn’t it? You think I’m just… abandonin’ my son?”

“Aren’t you?” He tried to hide it, but there was a definite note of accusation in his tone.

“No.” The corner of her mouth curved slightly. “He’s just gonna hang out with his daddy for a little while. That’s all.”

His daddy…

Yondu closed his eyes.

He hadn’t thought of his parents in decades, had actively avoided doing so much the same way as he’d avoided using his empathic abilities. They were more abstract constructs now than memories, the inverse of what he’d imagined parents should be. It was strange how the idea of family was simultaneously terrifying and so desperately desired. He’d given up on that when his first real family - the circle of Ravagers that started with Stakar - appeared lost to him. Even then, being part of a group of pseudo-siblings was not the same as being a parent, which, up until he’d met Meredith, was a word he had firmly associated with Ego or the people who abandoned him.

Meredith was different. She had strength of will that rivaled the toughest people he’d ever known, but she also had heart, so much heart that he had no idea how her small frame contained it all. Heaven help whoever stood between that woman and people she loved, especially her children. And she trusted him with them? Unbelievable, but Yondu wasn’t stupid enough to argue. Not when Aleta had been absolutely right.

This was everything he’d never allowed himself to admit he wanted.

The first time Yondu had ever seen a Ravager funeral was the day after Stakar took him away from the Kree. Scarred, bruised and nearly broken, he watched the battleship that had been his prison for years blow apart from the window of the Ravager medical bay. An hour later, the captain’s voice had sounded all over the ship’s coms. To this day, Yondu couldn’t recall the whole speech, but he remembered the words spoken in the precise moment the first firework exploded outside the ship’s bow in honor of the Ravagers who fell in the attack.

“Hail the victorious dead!”

His enslavement had taught Yondu that victory meant another day in his cell, so some nights before a battle he’d silently prayed for defeat, any way to end the pain of his existence. But that very first day on the Freedom’s Lady , he’d learned that Ravagers saw victory no matter the outcome of a battle: in days of glory yet to come or honorable death. Since his exile, he could only ever have for the prior. But now he wondered if he could have so much more than either of those…

“Got an idea for a name,” Yondu said casually. Meredith, not privy to the whirlwind in his mind, raised a curious brow. “Call her Victoria.”

“Victoria,” Meredith repeated and seemed to be almost tasting the name on her tongue. She looked at the little girl and smiled. “I like it! Victoria… Any reason you thought of it?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged a shoulder. “Jus’ felt… feels like we might win for once.”

Chapter Text

Contrary to what Meredith hoped and very much in line with what Yondu expected, Peter was clearly not enchanted with his new baby sister.

Aleta and Yondu had made most of the arrangements together, and the M-ship from the Eclector arrived the next day caring Peter and Kraglin so that the boy could spend a little time with his mother before the pending separation. The small party assembled in the hangar to meet them was comprised of Aleta and her second in command as well as Yondu and Meredith with Victoria in her arms. When the two arrivals disembarked, Aleta could tell from the boy’s less than enthused expression there was one extra person there than he had expected. Stepping down from the M-ship right behind him, Kraglin was making every attempt not to laugh.

“Look, Peter,” Meredith knelt in front of him, the baby in one arm and the other extended to him. “Come say ‘hi’ to Vicky.”

The boy raised a brow, the look on his face about the same as whenever mystery stew was served in the Eclector ’s mess hall. He stared at the bundle in his mother’s arms and wide brown eyes stared back.

Peter was obviously not impressed.

“Mom,” he said seriously, “do we need to have the talk ?”

Behind her, Yondu’s chin dropped to his chest, and Aleta had to bite her lip not to burst out laughing. Instead she leaned over to not-so-subtly whisper to her friend.

“How old is he again?”

“Ten,” Yondu reached out and lightly cuffed the boy on the ear, “goin’ on smart-ass.”

“Hey, it’s a legit question!” Peter objected. “You two left without a baby and ended up with one.”

“If you know where babies comes from, you know it takes lot longer to bake one.”

“How should I know how your weird species reproduces?”

Yondu’s brow twitched and he looked at Meredith.

“It too late t’ switch this l’il custody arrangement?” he asked, wiggling two fingers.

“Sure,” she said sweetly. “I’ll be captain of the Eclector and you can clean up vomit and diarrhea. Come to think of it...”

“...they ain’t that different,” Yondu finished for her. “Yeah, fair point.”

Nevertheless, he moved far enough back to allow Meredith some time alone with her son. Kraglin hung back as well, and if he was surprised by the presence of the infant, the Xandarian didn’t show it much. Aleta stepped up next to Yondu, and the two were silent for a long moment.

“You should tell her,” she finally said quietly so that only he could hear.

Yondu’s crimson eyes never left the image of the kneeling mother with her two children, like he was trying to burn it into his memory. “Tell ‘er what?”

“Everything.”

She didn’t need to elaborate, because his gaze instantly darkened. “No.”

“You’ve already told her the worst of what you’ve done, and yet she’s still here. That won’t change if she knew what was done to you.”

The Centaurian set his jaw, and Aleta knew exactly what he must have been thinking. He’d admitted his crimes because if nothing else, Yondu owned his mistakes. For good or ill, they had been his choices, circumstances he’d had control over. Sadly that wasn’t true of the first two plus decades of his life, and the last thing he wanted from anyone, especially Meredith, was pity.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she said softly, “but take it from someone who knows a little about these matters; whatever it is you two have is still very new, very fragile, and transparency is not a bad thing.”

“See, that’s where yer wrong.” This time Yondu all but rolled his eyes. “Just so happens, I was happier known’ a lot less about yer relationship. Unlike you, I ain’t nosey!”

He was at least partially saved from her response when Peter trotted over to the two of them in that moment. Glancing back at his mother and the baby who were also on their way over right behind him, he wrinkled his freckled nose.

“I don’t think I like her,” he told Yondu.

“Tough shit,” the Centaurian snapped, jabbing a thumb in Aleta’s direction. “I don’t much like my sister right now either, but that don’t matter. You know why? ‘Cause she’s family!”

Aleta grinned. “You’ll thank me one day.”

“Not anytime soon.”

Meredith had caught up at that point and exchanged a knowing look with the captain before temporarily handing Victoria over to her for a moment. Aleta expertly balanced the baby in one arm and used the other to pull Peter back by the collar of his jacket when he started to instinctively follow his mom, who’d dragged Yondu aside for a private conversation.

“Give them a moment,” she told the boy.

The two were well enough away that no one else in the hanger could overhear, but Aleta didn’t miss the way the Terran woman’s pale fingers lingered on the Centaurian’s blue ones or the way they stood quite a bit closer than necessary. Apparently Peter didn’t miss it either. The boy rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of Yondu’s expression from a moment ago.

“They’re so dumb.”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks, child,” she admonished gently. “Come talk to me in a few years when you meet a girl you like.”

At this point she didn’t need to hear the exact words to know what they were talking about. Yondu had pointed to another M-ship, the one they’d arrived in. Meredith looked confused at what he was saying, frown deepening with every word. They talked for another moment until her face smoothed in understanding. Abruptly, she lifted herself on her toes making up the mere inch of height difference between them and pressed her lips against his, chaste but unmistakably anything but platonic.

Out of the corner of her eye, Aleta saw one of Peter’s brows shoot up. She smirked. “Not so dumb after all, huh?”

The boy wrinkled his nose again and didn’t comment, but she had a feeling he wasn’t particularly displeased by this development. The pair returned a moment later, and though she and Peter tried to school their features into some form of nonchalance, it took one look from Yondu before he scowled at both of them.

“Not a word,” the Centaurian growled.

Aleta held up her palms placatingly in response and looked at Meredith. “He told you about the M-ship, I take it?”

The other woman nodded and took Victoria back from her. Peter pulled on his mother’s jacket. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Yondu’s leavin’ me the ship we came here in,” Meredith explained, “an’ Captain Ogord’s gonna find someone to teach me how to fly ‘er so I can come an’ visit you sometime, too. Isn’t that nice, baby?”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Peter looked over her shoulder at the orange and blue M-ship. “What are you gonna call her?”

“We’re fresh outta names,” Yondu said gruffly, thankfully refraining from adding that generally speaking M-ships didn’t get named because of the frequency with which they blew up.

“Well, then, can I name it?” Peter looked between the two of them hopefully.

“Sure. Knock yourself out, kid.”

The boy’s grin nearly split his face in two.

With one final round of goodbyes, the trio finally departed a few moments later. Aleta watched the M-ship detach from Dauntless and move far enough away that it could safely make the first in its series of jumps. The moment it winked out of existence, she looked to her second in command for confirmation, and the flame-haired woman nodded.

“Excellent.” She turned to Meredith. “I need to go, but Nikki will help with anything you need and introduce you to our chief engineer. Yondu mentioned you have some skills in that area.”

“You’re leavin’ too?” the Terran woman looked at her in puzzlement.

“Just for a few days. I have a,” she smiled more to herself than anyone else, “an engagement to keep.”

As much as nearly all her energy over the last five days had been focused on everyone else, now every fiber of Aleta Ogord’s being wanted - needed - to be elsewhere. She was aboard her own M-ship and away without a single look over her shoulder. Dauntless would still be there when she returned, but for now her sight was set several jumps away, on a small, peaceful world that she might have scoffed at in her militaristic youth but now shone brighter than any star.

He was waiting for her the moment she came down from the ship. The moment their hands touched, it was like they’d never been apart.

“Hello, my husband.”